Bsaai 


#eek  Life 

and 

Story 


Church 


^ 


PICTURES 


FROM 


GREEK  LIFE  AND  STORY 


PUTNAM'S 

KNICKERBOCKER  SERIES 

FOR  YOUNG   READERS 

All  high-class  Juvenile  Literature,  well  printed,  on 

good  paper,  and  illustrated.    Uniformly  bound 

in   ornate   covers.     i2mo,  cloth,  yellow  top, 

'     decorated  linings,  each         .         ,         ,     $1.25 


FOR    FULL    LIST    SEE   END    OF    THIS   VOLUME 


PICTURES 

FROM 

GREEK   LIFE   AND   STORY 


THE   REV.  A.  J.  CHURCH,  M.A. 

LATELY    PROFESSOR    OF    LATIN    IN    UNIVERSITY    COLLEGE,    LONDON  ;    AUTHOR    OF 
"three     greek     CHILDREN,"     "  TO    THE     LIONS,""  A     YOUNG    MACE- 
DONIAN  IN  THE  ARMY  OF  ALEXANDER  THE  GREAT,"  ETC.,  ETC. 


WITH    ILLUSTRATIONS 


G.  P.  PUTNAM'S  SONS 
NEW  YORK  AND  LONDON 
Ubc   'KnlcftcrDockcc    press 


COPYRIGHT,   1893 
BY 

G.  P.  PUTNAM'S  SONS 


CONTENTS 


OHAPTEB  FAGK 

I. — STATESMAN   AND  POET 1 

II. — A   FAMOUS   MAKRIAGE 14 

III. — THE   EXILES    OF   PHOC^A 21 

IV. — THE    BATTLE-FIELD    OF   FREEDOM 29 

V. — THE    THREE   HUNDRED ....•••.  41 

VI. — THE   WOODEN   WALLS 50 

VII. — BOW   AGAINST   SPEAR 66 

VIII. — SPOILT   BY   PROSPERITY 79 

IX. — TRAITOR   OR   PATRIOT? 90 

X. — IN    THE    THEATRE    AT    ATHENS 101 

XI. — A   MODEL    ARISTOCRAT 119 

XII. — A    STATESMAN    AND    HIS    FRIENDS 127 

XIII. — THE    GREAT   PLAGUE    OF   ATHENS 13G 

XIV. — A    COLONY 143 

XV. — THE  HOLY  ISLAND 158 

XVI. — THE  FATE  OF  PLAT^EA 176 


340224 


VIII  CONTENTS 

CHAPTEB  PACK 

XVII. — THE   FATAL   EXPEDITION 197 

XVIII. — THE   LAST   STRUGGLE 240 

XIX. — THE   EYE    OF   GREECE 250 

XX. — THE  lion's  cub 262 

XXI. — THE  WISEST   OF   MEN 275 

XXII. — THE   WILLING    PRISONER 288 

XXIII. — THE   CUP   OF   HEMLOCK 296 

XXIT. — THE   ONE   HERO    OF    THEBES  .«••.•••••••  307 


ILLUSTRATIONS. 


HORSEMEN. 
NON  . 


FROM     THE 


FRIEZE    OF    THE    PARTHE- 

,  Frontispiece 

PAGE 

MAP  OF  MARATHON  .  .  .  .  facing  page         29 

MAP  OF  THERMOPYL/E        .  .  .  .         "  "  29 

ATHENA  PARTHENOS.    THE  VARVAKEION  STATUETTE         50 
DELPHI.       GENERAL    VIEW,     SHOWING     THE     PH^D- 

RIDDES  ROCKS  AND   THE  RAVINE   OF   CASTALIA         54 
HERODOTUS.      FROM   A  BUST    IN   THE  FARNESE   COL- 
LECTION   AT    NAPLES 78 

THEMISTOCLES.       FROM    A    BUST    IN    THE    VATICAN     .  90 

BUST    OF   THUCYDIDES 96 

THEATRE    OF    DIONYSUS.       HYMETTUS    IN     THE    DIS- 
TANCE          102 

SOPHOCLES.       FROM    THE     MARBLE     STATUE    IN    THE 

LATERAN    GALLERY 112 

iESCHYLUS.        FROM     A     BUST     IN     THE     CAPITOLINE 

MUSEUM    AT    ROME                  .            .            .            .             .       I16 
PERICLES.       FROxM    A    BUST    IN    THE    VATICAN     .            .       I26 
ASPASIA.      FROM      A      BUST      FOUND      NEAR     CIVITA- 
VECCHIA     134 

ALCIBIADES.       FROM    A    BUST    IN    THE    CHIARAMONTI 

MUSEUM    IN    THE    VATICAN  .  .  ,  .       200 

EURIPIDES.       FROM     A     BUST     IN     THE     MUSEUM     AT 

NAPLES 238 

ARISTOPHANES.       FROM    A    BUST    FOUND    NEAR    TUS- 

CULUM 262 

SOCRATES.       FROM    A     BUST    IN     THE    VILLA     ALBANI 

(near   NAPLES) 288 

PLATO.       FROM    A    BRONZE    BUST    AT    NAPLES     .  .       296 


CHAPTER  L 

STATESMAN  AND  POET. 

SOLON  18  the  first  figure  that  stands  out  distinctly 
in  Greek  story.  When  I  say  this,  I  do  not 
mean  to  deny  the  historical  reality  of  all  the  legen- 
dary heroes.  There  may  well  have  been,  for  instance, 
an  actual  Theseus,  a  strong  man  who  cleared  Attica 
of  brigandage,  and  brought  all  its  towns  and 
independent  tribes  into  one  political  entity.  But  the 
life  of  Theseus,  as  Plutarch  tells  it,  is  clearly  a 
romance,  while  the  life  of  Solon,  by  the  same  writer, 
is  as  clearly  an  actual  biography.  Very  possibly 
some  things  in  it  are  not  facts,  but  it  has  throughout 
the  note  of  reality. 

Solon  was  of  the  noblest  Athenian  birth,  claiming 
descent,  indeed,  from  the  patriot  King  Codrus.*     Hia 

•  Codrus  was  King  of  Athens — so  the  story  goes— when  the 
Dorians,  having  conquered  the  greater  part  of  the  Pelopon- 
nesus, proceeded  to  attack  Attica.  It  had  been  prophesied  that 
that    nation   should   be   yictorious    whose    king  should  perish. 

1 


2  STATESMAN    AND    POET. 

father  had  greatly  impaired  the  family  fortunes  by 
his  munificence,  and  the  young  Solon  was  constrained 
to  repair  them  by  trade.  Trade  in  those  days  implied 
adventure.  The  trader  did  not  stay  at  home  to  buy 
and  sell  in  an  inglorious  security,  but  was  ever  on 
the  search  for  new  markets,  and  did  the  work  of  an 
explorer,  though  always  with  a  view  to  his  own 
advantage.  Solon,  indeed,  was  no  idealist.  Though 
reckoned  among  the  Seven  Wise  Men  of  Greece,  his 
wisdom  was  of  a  practical,  even  vulgar  type.  To 
describe  him  by  names  which  belong,  of  course,  to 
a  much  later  time,  he  was  an  Epicurean  rather  than 
a  Stoic.  He  does  not  affect  to  despise  pleasure;  on 
the  contrary,  he  declares  his  appreciation  of  it  in 
terms  that  are  undignified  and  even  coarse.  He 
avows  with  perfect  frankness  his  wish  for  wealth. 
He  will  not,  indeed,  consent  to  acquire  it  by  unjust 
rules;  to  do   that   provokes  the   divine   wrath;   but 

Codrus  accordingly  disguised  himself  in  the  dress  of  a  country- 
man, entered  the  Dorian  camp,  and  provoked  a  quarrel,  in  which 
he  was  killed.  The  people  were  so  impressed  by  this  act  of 
self-sacrifice  that  they  resolved  not  to  dim  the  lustre,  which 
thus  had  attached  itself  to  the  kingly  office,  by  allowing  that 
office  to  pass  into  inferior  hands.  Codrus,  accordingly,  was  thp 
last  of  the  Kings  of  Athens,  though  the  title  of  one  of  the 
body  of  magistrates  who  performed  their  duties  was  "  King- 
Archon."  The  King-Archon  had  no  political  pre-eminence,  but 
discharged  certain  religious  functions  which  could  only  be 
performed,  it  was  thought,  by  a  royal  or  quasi-royal  personage. 


STATESMAN   AND   POET.  8 

he  holds  it  to  be  among  the  most  desirable  of  human 
goods. 

Solon's  first  appearance  in  public  life  was  eminently 
successful,  and  probably  did  much  to  give  him  the 
influence  which  he  afterwards  acquired  over  his 
countrymen.  Athens  and  Megara  had  long  contended 
for  the  possession  of  Salamis,  a  small  island  which 
lies  close  to  the  harbour  of  the  former  city,  and 
would,  in  the  hands  of  an  enemy,  be  a  perpetual 
menace  to  its  trade.  The  fortune  of  war  went  so 
decidedly  against  the  Athenians  that  they  abandoned 
the  struggle,  and  even  passed  a  law  which  imposed 
the  penalty  of  death  on  anyone  who  should  suggest 
its  renewal.  Solon  resolved  to  run  the  risk.  He 
caused  a  report  to  be  spread  that  he  was  mad — 
madness  is  invested  with  a  certain  sanctity  and  even 
respect  in  the  eyes  of  a  half-civilized  people.  When 
this  had  gained  sufficient  credence,  he  rushed  into 
the  Assembly,  and  taking  his  stand  on  the  stone  which 
the  public  crier  was  accustomed  to  occupy  when  he 
announced  news  of  importance  to  the  city,  he  told 
the  people  what  he  thought  about  Salamis.  This  he 
put  in  the  form  of  verse.  The  poem  was  a  hundred  lines 
in  length,  and  was,  says  Plutarch,  who  had  it  before  him 
when  he  wrote,  admirably  composed.  The  eight  lines 
that  have  been  preserved  go  far  to  justify  this  praise. 
His  friends  and  kinsmen,  led  by  Pisistratus,  of  whom 
we   shall    soon  hear  again,  loudly  applauded.     The 


4  STATESMAN    AND    POET. 

people  were  taken  by  storm.  The  law  was  hastily 
repealed,  and  an  expedition  which  Solon  was  to 
command  was  determined  upon. 

His  first  step  was  to  assure  himself  of  divine 
favour.  He  consulted  the  oracle  of  Delphi,  and  was 
told  that  he  must  propitiate  the  heroes  of  the  island. 
This  he  did  by  landing  at  night,  and  performing  the 
customary  sacrifices  in  secrecy.  The  attack  which 
followed  was,  as  may  be  seen,  skilfully  contrived, 
though  it  may  be  doubtful  whether  the  story  of 
Solon's  stratagem  is  authentic.  According  to  this,  he 
dressed  up  a  number  of  Athenians  as  women,  provid- 
ing them  at  the  same  time  with  arms,  which  they 
concealed  under  their  feminine  apparel.  This  done, 
he  sent  a  messenger,  in  the  guise  of  a  deserter,  to 
the  Megarian  garrison  in  Salamis,  with  information 
that  they  might  find  a  number  of  Athenian  women 
celebrating  a  festival  on  the  shore  at  a  time  and 
place  specified.  The  garrison  fell  into  the  trap,  and 
suffered  so  disastrous  a  loss  that  the  island  was  left 
without  defence.  According  to  another  account  he 
had  recourse  to  a  more  ordinary  kind  of  strategy. 
The  result  was  that  Athens  acquired  possession  of  the 
island,  though,  as  Megara  was  not  disposed  to  accept 
its  defeat,  not  till  after  an  arbitration  which  Sparta 
decided  in  favour  of  the  Athenians. 

Solon's  next  exploit  was  to  procure  the  punishment 
•f  the  inhabitants   of   Cirrha,  the  seaport  by  which 


.    STATESMAN    AND    POET. 

the  oracle  of  Delphi  was  approached.  The  Cirrhaeans 
were  accustomed,  it  seems,  to  exact  heavy  imports 
from  visitors  to  the  oracle;  they  were  even  accused 
of  robbery  and  violence.  Solon  induced  the  council 
of  the  Amphictyons  to  interfere ;  after  a  long  struggle 
Cirrha  was  subdued.  In  the  story  told  by  one  writer, 
many  centuries  after  the  event,  it  is  true,  we  find 
Solon  getting  rid  of  his  enemies  by  poisoning  the 
waters  of  the  river  which  they  drank. 

But  more  important  work  remained  for  Solen  to  do. 
He  had  to  set  the  domestic  affairs  of  the  Athenian 
people  on  a  sound  basis.  The  condition  of  the  lower 
classes  of  Attica,  as  it  is  described  in  the  fragments 
of  Solon's  verses  which  have  come  down  to  us, 
curiously  resembles  that  which  Livy  gives  us  of  the 
Roman  populace  in  the  early  days  of  the  republic, 
Both  were  overwhelmed  with  debt.  What  Solon  did 
to  relieve  this  state  of  things,  it  is  impossible  pre- 
cisely to  say.  The  common  account  of  the  matter  is 
that  he  introduced  a  measure  which  was  called  the 
"  Removal  of  Burdens."  All  mortgages  on  land  were 
summarily  abolished,  all  debtors  who  had  been  deprived 
of  their  liberty  were  set  free,  all  who  had  been  sold 
into  foreign  slavery  were  ransomed.  This  account 
does  Qot  seem  altogether  credible.  Such  securities 
as  mortgages,  for  instance,  belong  to  a  more 
advanced  condition  of  things  than  seems  possible  in 
Solon's  time.    But  the  subject  is  too  long  and  difficult 


6  STATESMAN    AND    POET.  . 

to  discuss  in  this  place.  That  Solon  brought  about 
a  great  change  in  the  tenure  of  the  land  may  be  taken 
as  certain.  This  change  may  have  resembled  the 
great  reform  worked  out  by  Stein  in  Prussia  in 
the  early  years  of  this  century.  Possibly  a  parallel 
may  be  found  to  it  in  the  Irish  Land  legislation  of 
our  own  time.  Whatever  may  have  been  the  details 
of  his  measure,  Solon  certainly  gained  and  probably 
deserved  the  credit  of  having  finally  settled  a  very 
difficult  question.  We  never  hear  again  in  Athenian 
history  of  agrarian  troubles. 

This  social  legislation  was  accompanied  by  political 
reforms.  The  citizens  of  Athens  were  divided  into 
classes  which  remind  us  with  curious  exactness  of 
the  constitution  attributed  to  the  Roman  King  Ser- 
vius  Tullius.  The  division  was  based  on  property,  the 
standard  employed  being  such  as  we  might  expect  to 
find  in  so  early  a  state  of  society.  The  first  class, 
which  had  the  monopoly  of  all  the  high  offices  of 
state,  consisted  of  such  as  possessed  an  annual  income 
equal  to  the  value  of  five  hundred  medimni  (seven 
hundred  bushels)  of  wheat.  Next  to  these  came  those 
who  had  from  three  to  five  hundred  medimni.  These 
were  supposed  to  be  wealthy  enough  to  keep  a  horse 
and  80  to  serve  as  mounted  soldiers,  and  were  called 
Knights.  Citizens  who  owned  from  two  to  three 
hundred,  and,  as  being  able  to  keep  a  team  of  oxen, 
were  termed  "  Teamsmen, "  constituted  the  third  class. 


STATESMAN    AND    POEl.  7 

This  supplied  the  heavy-armed  infantry  of  the  army. 
All  whose  income  was  less  than  two  hundred  medimni 
formed  a  fourth  class.  As  being  unable  to  furnish 
themselves  with  heavy  armour,  they  were  called  upon 
to  serve  as  light  troops  only,  or  if,  as  sometimes 
happened,  the  roll  of  the  heavy-armed  had  to  be 
supplemented  from  them,  their  accoutrements  were 
furnished  by  the  state.  This  fourth  class  was  exempt 
from  direct  taxation,  and  was  ineligible  to  public 
office.  Members  of  the  second  and  third  could  hold 
posts  of  minor  importance,  and  paid  a  progressive  tax 
on  capital,  the  third  being  rated  at  five  times,  the 
second  at  ten  times,  and  the  first  at  twelve  times 
the  amount  of  their  income. 

Other  details  of  Solon's  political  legislation  must  be 
left  unnoticed.  What  has  been  said  is  enough  to  show 
the  principle  by  which  it  was  guided.  This  was  not 
the  modern  doctrine  of  inherent  political  rights  which 
every  citizen  possesses.  On  the  contrary,  it  was  little 
more  than  the  representation  of  property.  In  after- 
times  the  constitution  was  largely  modified  in  a  demo- 
cratic sense.  That  for  the  present  it  did  not  satisfy 
the  people  is  evident  from  what  followed. 

Afraid  that  his  countrymen — so  the  story  runs — 
might  change  the  political  order  which  he  had  devised, 
Solon  exacted  from  them  a  promise,  by  which  they 
bound  themselves  not  to  alter  for  ten  years  any  of 
the  laws   which   had   been  thus  passed,  except  with 


8  STATESMAN    AND    POET. 

his  own  consent;  and  then,  to  make  the  giving  ol 
this  consent  impossible,  he  left  his  country  for  a 
prolonged  period  of  travel. 

Round  this  travel  various  romantic  stories  have 
gathered.  Solon's  first  visit,  it  is  said,  was  to  Egypt, 
where  he  spent  some  time  in  discussion  with  the  most 
learned  priests  of  the  country.  It  was  from  them, 
according  to  Plato,  that  he  heard  the  story  of  the 
continent  of  Atlantis,  lost,  as  the  legend  had  it, 
under  the  waves  of  the  Western  Ocean.  From  Egypt 
he  retraced  his  steps  to  Cyprus,  where  he  was  the 
guest  of  one  Philocyprus.  This  prince  he  persuaded  to 
exchange  his  abode  among  the  hills,  for  a  more  con- 
venient and  fertile  settlement  on  the  plains,  and  he 
did  his  best  to  make  the  new  town  a  safe  and  well- 
ordered  community.  The  gratitude  of  prince  and 
people  was  shown,  it  was  said,  by  giving  the  place 
the  name  of  its  benefactor. 

But  the  most  interesting  of  Solon's  experiences  of 
travel  was  that  which  befell  him  at  the  Court  of 
Croesus,  King  of  Lydia.  As  long  ago  as  the  time 
of  Plutarch  this  story  excited  the  suspicion  of  the 
critics,  who  found  in  it,  indeed,  great  chronological 
difficulties.  Great  they  may  be,  but  they  are  scarcely 
insuperable.  Solon,  it  is  true,  must  have  been 
an  old  man  at  the  time,  for  his  legislation  is  assigned 
with  considerable  probability' to  the  year  595  B.C., 
whereas  Croesus  did  not  begin  to  reign  till  the  year 


STATESMAN    AND    POET.  9 

568.  Yet,  as  we  shall  see,  Solon  was  certainly  alive 
eight  years  after  this  latter  date,  for  he  saw  his  own 
constitution  overthrown  by  the  usurpation  of  Pisistratus. 
It  is  only  necessary  to  postpone  the  travel,  and, 
instead  of  attributing  it  to  a  period  closely  following 
the  legislation,  to  suppose  that  it  was  only  when 
Solon  saw  the  growing  tendency  to  change,  that  he 
took  the  opportunity  of  securing  his  country  against 
it  for  as  long  a  time  as  he  could.  Anyhow  the 
story  is  so  picturesque,  and  so  full  of  Greek  thought 
in  its  most  characteristic  aspects,  that  we  should 
lose  it  with  the  greatest  regret. 

It  runs  thus :  "  Croesus  lodged  his  Athenian  guest  in 
the  royal  palace,  and  having  bidden  his  servants 
conduct  him  over  his  treasuries,  he  put  this  question 
to  him:  *  Stranger  of  Athens,  we  have  heard  much 
of  thy  wisdom  and  of  thy  travel,  how  thou  goest  over 
many  lands,  seeking  wisdom,  and  I  have  conceived 
the  desire  of  asking  thee  whom  of  all  the  men  that 
thou  hast  seen  up  to  this  day  thou  didst  deem  the 
most  happy?*  This  question  put  Croesus,  thinking 
himself  to  be  the  happiest  of  men.  But  Solon,  in 
nowise  flattering  the  King,  but  answering  him  accord- 
ing to  the  very  truth,  said,  *Tellus  the  Athenian, 
0  King.'  Marvelling  much  at  this  saying,  the  King 
cried,  not  without  anger,  *Why  judgest  thou  Tellus 
to  have  been  the  happiest  of  men?'  Solon  made 
answer,   *  Firstly,   0   Bang,    because  his  country  was 


10  STATESMAN    AND    P^ET, 

prosperous,  and  he  had  sons  that  were  both  comely 
and  good,  and  to  each  of  these  sons  children  were 
bom  that  did  not  die  before  their  time ;  and  secondly, 
because,  after  a  happy  life,  he  came  to  a  glorious 
end,  for  there  being  a  battle  between  the  Athenians 
and  their  neighbours  at  Eleusis,  he  did  good  service 
for  his  country,  and  routed  the  enemy,  and  so  died 
right  nobly,  so  that  the  Athenians  buried  him  where 
he  fell  at  the  public  cost,  and  paid  him  the  greatest 
honours/  Then  Croesus  asked  him  again,  'But 
whom  hast  thou  seen  that  was  next  in  happiness  to 
this  Tellus?*  for  he  said  to  himself,  'Surely  he  will 
put  me  next.'  Then  said  Solon,  'I  judge  Cleobis 
and  Biton  to  have  been  next  in  happiness  to  Tell  us. 
These  were  two  youths  of  Argos.  They  had  a  suf- 
ficiency of  worldly  goods,  and  they  were  stronger 
than  all  other  men,  so  that,  besides  winning  many 
prizes  at  the  games,  they  did  this  thing  that  I  now 
relate.  The  men  at  Argos  held  a  great  feast  to 
Her^  the  goddess,  who  hath  a  great  and  famous  teni- 
ple  in  their  city.  Now  it  is  a  custom  that  the 
priestess  of  Here,  who  was  the  mother  of  these  men, 
should  be  drawn  in  a  waggon  from  the  city  to  the 
temple,  but  the  oxen  that  should  have  drawn  the 
waggon  were  not  yet  come  in  from  the  fields. 
Therefore,  as  the  time  was  short  and  the  matter 
pressed,  the  young  men  harnessed  themselves  to  the 
waggon,  their  mother  sitting  upon  it.    So  they  came 


STATESMAN    AND    POET.  J  1 

to  the  Temple,  the  distance  being  forty  and  five 
furlongs.  And  when  all  the  people  of  Argos  came 
round  them,  the  men  praising  the  sons  for  their 
great  strength  and  the  women  praising  the  mother 
for  that  she  had  borne  children  so  noble,  the  priest- 
ess, in  the  joy  of  her  heart,  stood  before  the  image 
and  prayed  that  the  goddess  would  give  to  her  sons 
that  which  the  Gods  judge  it  best  for  a  man  to  have. 
So  she  prayed;  and  the  young  men,  having  offered 
sacrifice  and  made  merry  with  their  companions,  lay 
down  to  sleep  in  the  temple,  and  woke  no  more. 
Thereupon  the  Argives  commanded  that  statues  of 
the  young  men  should  be  made,  that  they  might  offer 
them  to  the  god  at  Delphi.'  When  Solon  gave  the 
second  place  to  these  young  men,  Crcesus  was  very 
wroth,  and  said,  'Man  of  Athens,  thou  countest  my 
happiness  to  be  nothing  worth,  putting  me  behind 
common  men.'  To  him  Solor  jiade  answer,  saying, 
'0  King,  the  life  of  man  is  very  full  of  chance.  I 
see  that  thou  hast  great  wealth  and  rulest  over 
many  men.  But  as  for  that  thou  askest  of  me,  I 
count  thee  not  happy,  till  I  shall  know  how  thou 
hast  ended  thy  days.  For  he  that  is  rich  above 
measure  is  in  nowise  happier  than  he  that  hath 
sufficient  only  for  the  day,  unless  his  good  fortune 
abide  with  him  and  give  him  all  that  is  to  be  desired 
all  the  days  of  his  life.  For  many  men  that  have 
very  great  wealth  are  yet  very  unhappy,  and  many 


12  STATBSMAM    AND    POST. 

that  have  neither  poverty  nor  riches  have  yet  great 
happiness.  Verily,  if  such  a  man,  being  whole  in 
body,  and  in  good  health,  have  also  good  children, 
and,  over  and  above  these  things,  also  end  his  life  well, 
then  I  judge  him  to  be  the  happy  man  whom  thou 
seekest.  But  till  he  die,  I  say  not  so,  but  call  him, 
not  happy,  indeed,  but  fortunate.  Also  it  may  not  be 
that  one  man  in  his  life  should  comprehend  all  good 
things.  Even  as  no  country  sufficeth  for  itself  by 
producing  all  things,  but  having  certain  things  of  its 
own,  receiveth  others  from  other  countries,  so  no 
man  sufficeth  for  himself;  some  things  he  hath,  but 
some  he  receiveth  from  others.  Whosoever,  0  King, 
keeping  the  greatest  store  of  things,  shall  end  his  life 
in  seemly  fashion,  this  man  is  rightly  to  be  called  happy. 
For,  indeed,  we '  must  look  to  the  the  end,  to  see  how  it 
shall  turn  out;  the  gods  give  to  many  some  causes 
of  happiness,  yet  in  the  end  overthrow  them  utterly.' 

So  did  Solon  speak,  but  he  did  not  please  King 
Croesus.  Rather  the  King  took  no  account  of  him, 
but  judged  him  to  be  a  foolish  and  ignorant  person, 
that  thought  lightly  of  present  goods,  and  bade 
men  look  to  their  end." 

Solon,  we  may  say,  did  not  fulfil  his  own  con- 
dition of  happiness.  Before  the  end  of  life  rame,  h« 
saw  all  the  work  on  which  he  had  spent  it  undone. 
His  kinsman  Pisistratus  made  himself  despot  of 
Athens.     Solon   did   all   that  he   could    to  rouse  the 


STATESMAN    AND    POET.  13 

people  to  resistance.  Finding  that  all  his  efiorts 
were  in  vain,  he  took  his  armour  and  weapons  and 
laid  them  in  the  street  before  his  door.  "  I  have 
done  that  I  could  for  my  country,"  he  said,  "now 
my  work  is  over."  For  himself  he  had  no  fears. 
His  friends  asked  him  to  what  protection  from  the 
despot's  anger  he  looked?  "To  my  old  age,"  was 
his  reply.  And  Pisistratus,  who,  indeed,  had  no  taste 
for  severities,  did  not  think  of  harming  him.  He 
treated  him  on  the  contrary  with  the  greatest  re- 
spect. Solon  died  in  peace  somewhere  about  the 
year  568  B.a 


CHAPTER  n. 

A  FAMOUS  MARRIAGE. 

THE  earliest  form  of  government  that  we  hear  of 
in  Greece  is  what  we  may  call  "  Constitutional 
Monarchy. "  The  chiefs  who  led  the  Homeric  hosts 
into  battle  were,  to  adopt  the  phrase  of  Thucydides, 
"  hereditary  kings  with  fixed  prerogatives."  The  time 
of  their  predominance  was  before  the  dawn  of  history; 
80  was  the  time  of  their  fall.  When  we  begin  to 
see  something  like  light  in  the  story  of  the  Greek 
states,  i.e.  in  the  seventh  century  B.C.,  we  find 
ourselves  again  in  an  age  of  monarchy;  but  the  rulers 
are  not  of  a  constitutional  kind.  Their  prerogatives 
are  not  fixed.  They  are  usurpers,  or,  to  use  the 
Greek  word,  used  without  any  intention  of  imputing 
cruelty,  **  tyrants. "  ' 

One  of  the  most  famous  and,  it  may  be  added, 
most  respectable  of  the  class,  was  Cleisthenes  of  Sicyon, 
a  small  Doric  city  on  the  southern  coast  of  the 
Corinthian  gulf,  which  claimed  to  take  precedence  in 


A   FAMOUS   MABRIAQE.  15 

point  of  antiquity  of  all  the  Greek  communities, 
whether  on  the  mainland  or  the  islands.  The  first  of 
the  line  was  Orthagoras,  who  raised  himself  to  supreme 
power  from  the  humble  station— so  tradition  had  it 
—of  a  cook,  about  the  year  670  B.C.  He  represented 
— so  much  seems  clear— the  non-Dorian  element  in 
Sicyon,  i.e.  the  revolt  of  the  subject  class  against 
the  domination  of  an  intruding  race.  He  was,  in  fact, 
a  despot  who  raised  himself  to  the  throne  by  the 
help  of  democratic  support,  and  was  probably  not  the 
.tirst  as  he  was  certainly  not  the  last  of  his  kind. 
Myron,  possibly  his  son,  more  probably  his  grandson, 
gained  distinction  for  his  city  by  winning  a  chariot- 
race  at  Olympia.  All  the  family  were  well  known 
as  just  and  clement  rulers.  Cleisthenes  came  to  the 
throne  about  600  B.C.  He  was  one  of  the  most 
powerful  princes  of  his  time,  taking  a  leading  part 
in  the  war  which,  at  the  suggestion  of  Solon,  was 
enjoined  by  the  general  council  of  the  tribes,  the 
Amphictyons,  for  the  purpose  of  punishing  the  impiety 
of  the  people  of  Cirrha.* 

But  what  I  am  concerned  with  at  present  is  the 
curious  story  of  how  the  wealth  of  Cleisthenes,  who 
was  the  last  as  well  as  the  greatest  of  his  house, 
came  into  the  possession  of  an  Athenian  family,  and 
while  contributing  to  its  rise,  indirectly  affected  the 

*  Cirrha  had  abused  her  position  in  the  neighbourhood  of  the 
oracle  of  Delphi  to    harass  and  oppress  visitors  to  the  shrine 


16  ▲   FAMOUS   MARBIAQE. 

history  of  the  most  important  state  in  Greece.  This 
story  will  be  best  told  in  the  actual  words  of  Herodotus 
so  far  as  I  am  able  to  give  them  an  appropriate 
English  dress. 

"  Cleisthenes  had  a  daughter  whose  name  was 
Agariste.  Her  he  desired  to  give  in  marriage  to  the  best 
husband  whom  he  could  find  in  all  the  land  of  Greece. 
It  was  the  year  of  the  Olympic  festival,  and  he,  having 
won  the  prize  for  the  race  of  four-horse  chariots, 
caused  this  proclamation  to  be  made:  *  Whosoever 
of  the  Greeks  deems  himself  worthy  to  be  the  son- 
in-law  of  Cleisthenes,  let  him  come  to  Sicyon  on  the 
sixtieth  day  from  this  present,  or,  if  he  will,  before, 
for  Cleisthenes  will,  in  the  space  of  a  year  from  the 
said  sixtieth  day,  take  order  concerning  the  marriage 
of  his  daughter.*  Thereupon  such  of  the  Greeks  as 
had  a  high  esteem  either  of  themselves  or  of  their 
country  came  as  suitors  for  the  maiden  Agariste. 
And  the  aforesaid  Cleisthenes  caused  a  running  course 
and  a  wrestling  ring  to  be  made  for  the  trial  of  them. 
From  Italy  came  Smindyrides,  son  of  Hippocrates,  a 
citizen  of  Sybaris,  *  a  man  that  reached  such  a  height 
of  luxury   as   never  did  any  other;  and  indeed  this 

•  The  Sybarites  passed  into  a  proverb  for  luxury,  this  Smin- 
dyrides having  the  greatest  extravagances  gathered  upon  him. 
He  is  said  to  have  taken  a  thousand  cooks  and  as  many  fowlers 
and  fishermen  with  him  to  Sicyon.  He  is  the  man  who,  sleeping 
upon  rose-leaves,  complained  that  one  had  been  crumpled  under 


A   FAMOUS   MABRIAOS.  17 

city  of  Sybaris  was  then  at  its  very  greatest  pros- 
perity. From  Siris  there  came  Daipasus,  son  of  that 
Amyris  that  was  surnamed  the  Wise.  These  two 
and  none  other  came  from  Italy.  From  the  Ionian 
Gulf  (the  Adriatic  Sea)  came  Amphimnestus,  son  of 
Epistrophus,  a  man  of  Epidamnus ;  he  only  came  from 
the  Ionian  Gulf.  From  ^tolia  came  Males,  brother 
of  Titormus.  This  Titormus  excelled  all  the  Greeks 
in  strength,  and  flying  from  the  face  of  men  dwelt 
in  the  extremest  parts  of  the  ^tolian  land.  From 
the  Peloponnesus  came  Leocedes,  son  to  Pheidon, 
despot  of  Argos.  This  Pheidon  was  he  that  estab- 
lished weights  and  measures  for  the  dwellers  in  the 
Peloponnesus,  and  behaved  himself  more  arrogantly 
than  all  the  other  Greeks,  driving  out  the  men  of 
Elis  from  being  masters  of  the  Great  Games,  and 
making  himself  master. 

*  Also  there  came  Amiantus,  son  of  Lycurgus,  an 
Arcadian  of  Trapezus,  and  Laphanes,  an  Azenian,  of 
the  city  of  Paeus,  son  to  that  Euphorion,  who  received 
in  his  house — so  they  say  in  Arcadia — the  Twin 
Brethren,  and  after  that  showed  hospitality  to  all  men. 
From  Elis  came  Onomastus,  son  of  Agaeus.  These 
were  they  that  came  from  the  Peloponnesus.  From 
Athens  came   two,  Megacles,    son   of  Alcmsaon,  the 

him;  and  who  declared  that  it  fatigued  him  to  see  a  man  at 
work  in  the  fields. 

2 


18  A    FAMOUS    MARRIAGE. 

same  that  visited  Croesus  was,  one.*  Another  suitor 
from  Athens  was  Hippoeleides,  son  of  Tisander,  than 
whom  no  Athenian  was  richer  or  more  comely. 
From  Eretria,  which  was  at  this  time  a  prosperous 
city,  came  Lysanias.  None  other  came  from  Euboea. 
From  Thessaly  came  Diactorides,  son  of  Cranon,  one 
of  the  family  of  Scopas,  and  from  the  Molossians, 
Alcon.     So  many  were  the  suitors. 

*  These,  then,  having  come  on  the  appointed  day, 
Cleisthenes  first  enquired  of  each  his  country  and 
lineage;  and  then,  keeping  them  with  him  for  a 
whole  year,  made  trial  of  their  courage  and  temper 
and  education  and  manners,  consorting  with  them 
singly  and  in  company.  The  younger  sort  he  would 
take  to  the  gymnasium.  But  most  of  all  did  he  make 
experiment  of  them  at  the  banquet,  living  with  them 
for  the  whole  of  this  time  and  entertaining  them 
sumptuously.  Of  all  the  suitors  none  pleased  him  so 
well  as  those  that  came  from  Athens;  and  of  these 


•  The  chronology  is  hopelessly  involved.  Croesus  succeeded 
to  the  throne  of  Lydia  in  568  i.e.  forty  years  after  the  date 
commonly  given  for  the  death  of  Cleisthenes.  Yet  here  we  have 
a  suitor  for  the  hand  of  the  daughter  of  Cleisthenes  represented 
as  the  son  of  an  Athenian  noble  who  paid  this  king  a  visit,  of 
course  after  this  date.  If  we  could  read  "  father  of  that  Alc- 
maeon/  the  difficulty  would  be  diminished.  As  it  was  the 
practice  in  the  family  to  use  the  two  names  alternately,  the 
suggestion  is  so  far  probable. 


A    FAMOUS   MARRIAGE  19 

two  he  was  the  more  inclined  to  Hippocleides,  both 
on  account  of  his  courage,  and  because  he  was  of 
kin  to  the  family  of  Cypselus  of  Corinth.  When, 
therefore,  the  day  came  for  the  settling  of  the  mar- 
riage and  for  Cleisthenes  to  declare  whom  he  had 
chosen  out  of  all,  he  sacrificed  a  hundred  oxen,  and 
entertained  the  suitors  and,  at  the  same  time,  all  the 
mhabitants  of  Sicyon.  And  when  the  banquet  was 
ended,  the  suitors  had  a  contest  among  themselves 
in  music  and  in  speaking,  some  subject  being  given. 
As  the  drinking  went  on,  Hippocleides,  who  had  now 
a  mastery  over  the  rest,  bade  the  piper  play  him  a 
tune,  and  when  the  piper  did  so,  he  danced.  And 
dancing  he  pleased  himself  mightily;  but  Cleisthenes 
looking  on  liked  the  whole  business  but  little.  Then 
Hippocleides,  halting  awhile,  bade  a  servant  bring  a 
table.  Thereon  he  mounted,  and  danced  several 
figures,  first  Spartan,  then  Athenian.  Last  of  all,  he 
put  his  head  on  the  table,  and  made  a  great  show 
with  his  legs.  Now  Cleisthenes,  during  the  first 
dance  and  during  the  second  also,  though  he  was 
loathing  that  Hippocleides  should  be  his  son-in-law, 
by  reason  of  this  shameless  dancing  of  his,  never- 
theless restrained  himself,  not  wishing  to  break  out 
upon  him.  But  when  he  beheld  him  making  this 
show  with  his  legs,  he  could  restrain  himself  no 
longer,  but  cried  out,  *Son  of  Tisander,  thou  hast 
danced  away  thy  wife ; '  to  which  the  other  answered, 


20  A    FAMOUS    MARRIAGE. 

*  Hippocleides  doesn't  care.'  And  these  words  became 
a  proverb. 

Then  Cleisthenes  calling  for  silence,  spake  as  fol- 
lows, 'Suitors  of  my  daughter,  I  commend  you  all, 
and  willingly  would  I  favour  you  all  were  it  pos- 
sible, not  choosing  one  from  among  you  and  reject- 
ing all  the  others.  But  seeing  that,  having  but  one 
daughter,  I  may  not  please  you  all,  I  do  this.  To 
you  that  go  away  disappointed  of  their  hope,  I  give 
one  talent  of  silver  to  each  man.  This  is  both  for 
the  honour  you  have  done  me  in  seeking  this  marriage 
and  also  for  you  long  absence  from  home.  But  my 
daughter  Agariste  I  betroth  to  Megacles,  son  of 
Alcmseon,  of  Athens,  according  to  Athenian  laws,' 

*  Thereupon,  Megacles  giving  his  consent,  the  mar- 
riage followed  in  due  course." 

Whatever  the  details  of  this  story  may  be  worth, 
t  is  clear  that  the  family  of  the  Alcmseonidae  made 
an  alliance  with  the  daughter  of  a  foreign  potentate, 
and  that  by  this  alliance  it  was  greatly  aggrandized. 
Cleisthenes,  the  author  of  the  democratic  constitution 
of  Athens,  and  Pericles,  the  ablest  of  Athenian 
statesmen  some  generations  later,  were  descendants 
of  the  Sicyonian  princesa. 


CHAPTER  in. 

TEE  EXILES  OF  PHOC^A. 

EARLY  in  the  sixth  century — the  precise  date  is 
given  as  546  B.C. — a  great  change  took  place 
in  the  condition  of  Western  Asia,  a  change  by  which 
the  Greek  colonies  on  the  Mgean  coast  were  pro- 
foundly affected.  These  towns  had  struggled  with 
varying  success  to  maintain  their  independence  against 
their  powerful  neighbours,  the  Lydian  dynasty  of  the 
Mermnadae,  which  had  its  capital  at  Sardis.  Croesus, 
the  most  powerful  and  most  famous  of  these  monarchs. 
completed  their  subjugation.  He  did  not,  however, 
deal  harshly  with  them.  They  suffered  little  beyond 
the  imposition  of  a  tribute,  and  the  necessity  of  having 
to  pull  down,  or  at  least  make  a  breach  in  their  walls. 
After  a  reign  of  about  thirteen  years  Croesus  himself 
fell.  He  had  provoked  a  conflict  with  the  rising 
power  of  the  Persians,  had  fought  an  indecisive  battle 
with  them  on  the  border  of  his  kingdom,  and  had 
returned  to  Sardis  to  prepare  for  another  campaign. 


22  THE   EXILES    OF    PHOC^A. 

This  intention  was  frustrated  by  the  unexpected  energy 
of  the  Persian  leader.  Cyrus  followed  him,  attacked 
him  before  the  allies  whom  he  had  summoned  to  his 
assistance,  could  join  him,  and  inflicting  on  him  a 
severe  defeat,  shut  him  up  in  Sardis.  The  city  fell 
in  the  course  of  a  few  days,  and  the  Lydian  dynasty 
ceased  to  exist.  The  Greek  colonies  sought  an  inter- 
view with  the  conqueror,  and  endeavoured  to  obtain 
from  him  the  same  easy  terms  of  dependence  which 
they  had  enjoyed  under  Croesus.  In  Eastern  fashion, 
he  answered  them  with  a  fable.     It  ran  thus : 

*A  certain  piper,  seeing  fishes  in  the  sea,  piped 
to  them,  thinking  that  they  would  come  out  to  him 
on  the'  land.  But  being  disappointed  of  this  hope, 
he  took  a  cast-net,  and  enclosing  therewith  a  great 
multitude  of  them,  drew  them  to  shore.  Then,  seeing 
them  leaping  about,  he  said  to  the  fishes,  'cease  now 
from  your  dancing,  for  ye  would  not  dance,  when  I 
piped  to  you.'" 

The  application  was  this:  Cyrus,  on  hearing  of 
the  attack  which  the  Lydian  king  intended  to  make 
on  him,  had  endeavoured  to  make  a  diversion  by 
rousing  his  Greek  subjects  against  him.  The  Greeks, 
satisfied  with  their  condition,  had  refused  his  over- 
tures, and  this  refusal  he  was  not  disposed  to  forgive. 
Nothing  was  left  for  the  cities  but  to  defend  them- 
selves as  best  they  could. 

The  first  to  be  attacked  was  Phocsea.     Though  not 


THE    EXILES    OF   PHOC^A.  23 

the  largest,  it  was  in  one  way  the  most  distinguished 
of  the  Greek  settlements  in  Asia.  It  had  an  admir- 
able harbour,  which  is  still  one  of  the  best  on  the 
coast,  and  its  citizens  were  the  boldest  and  most 
successful  of  the  merchant  adventurers  who  pushed 
their  commercial  enterprise  over  all  the  coasts  of  the 
Mediterranean,  and  even  beyond  the  Pillars  of  Her- 
cules. *  Some  twenty  years  before  the  date  of  whicK 
I  am  now  speaking,  one  of  their  trading  ships— and 
it  is  a  proof  of  their  enterprising  spirit  that  they 
used  for  purposes  of  commercial  exploration,  not  the 
capacious  merchantman  but  vessels  of  war— had 
reached  Tartessus,  f  on  the  Atlantic  coast.  The  king 
of  the  Tartessians,  Arganthonius  by  name,  was  so 
pleased  with  the  new-comers,  that  he  begged  them 
to  leave  their  home  in  Asia,  and  to  settle  in  his 
country,  offering  them  the  choice  of  any  spot  which 
they  might  choose  to  select.  When  they  declined 
this  offer,  he  presented  them  with  a  sum  of  money 
which  they  were  to  spend  in  fortifying  their  city. 
The  time  was  now  come  when,  as  we  may  easily 
suppose,  the  Phocaeans  repented  of  their  refusal. 
The  Persian  general,  Harpagus  by  name,  invested 
their  town:  notwithstanding  the  menacing  language 
of  his  master,  Harpagus  was  not  disposed  to  drive 
the  besieged  to  extremities.     •Full  down,"  he  said, 

•  The  Straits  of  Gibraltar. 

t  Commonly  identified  with  Cadis. 


24  THE   EXILES   OF  PHOOSA. 

•one  of  your  battlements,  and  dedicate  one  of  your 
dwelling-houses  to  the  King,  and  it  will  suffice. "  But 
the  bold  Phocseans  were  not  disposed  to  make  even 
this  acknowledgment  of  subjection.  They  sought, 
however,  to  temporize.  *  Draw  off  your  army, "  they 
said  to  the  Persian  commander,  *  and  give  us  a  day 
for  deliberation."  Harpagus  was  not  deceived.  *I 
know,'  he  replied  "what  you  are  thinking  of;  still 
I  will  do  what  you  say."  Accordingly  he  retired  from 
the  walls.  The  Phocaeans  launched  all  their  vessels 
of  war,  put  on  board  their  wives  and  children,  and 
all  the  property  which  could  be  removed  from  the 
temples  *  and  private  houses,  and  departed.  Har- 
pagus, returning  next  day,  found  himself  master,  as 
he  had  probably  expected,  of  an  empty  city. 

The  question  was— whither  were  the  fugitives  to 
go?  King  Arganthonius  was  dead.  He  had  lived 
to  an  extreme  old  age,  completing,  we  are  told,  the 
one  hundred  and  twentieth  year  of  his  age  and  the 
eightieth  of  his  reign.  The  voyage  was  too  long  to 
take  on  the  chance  that  his  successor  might  be 
equally  friendly.  The  colony  which  they  had  planted 
at  a  still  earlier  time  on  the  south  coast  of  Gaul, 
though  it  was  afterwards  to  grow  into  the  powerful 
city   of  Massilia   (Marseilles),  was  then  in  a  feeble 

•  Herodotus  specifies  ■  the  images  of  the  gods  and  the  votive 
offerings  in  the  shrines,  *  but  tells  us  that  the  statues,  whether 
of  bronze  or  stone,  and  the  paintings  had  to  be  left  behind. 


THE   EXILES   OF    PHOC^A.  26 

condition.  Under  these  circumstances  they  looke«l 
nearer  home.  Their  first  idea  was  to  purchase  from 
the  people  of  Chios  some  unoccupied  islets  known  by 
the  name  of  the  (Enussae.  But  the  Chians  were 
afraid  of  their  enterprising  neighbours,  and  dreaded 
the  establishment  of  a  rival  trading  station  so  close 
to  themselves.  Accordingly,  they  refused  the  offer. 
The  Phocfleans  then  turned  their  thoughts  to  another 
colony  founded  by  themselves,  and  not  so  remote  as 
Massilia.  This  was  Alalia  in  Corsica,  then  called 
Cyrnus.  To  Alalia,  therefore,  they  resolved  to  go, 
but  before  going  they  executed  a  bloody  revenge 
on  the  intruders  who  had  driven  them  from  their 
native  town.  They  sailed  back  to  Phocaea,  and  sur- 
prising the  Persian  garrison  which  Harpagus  had  put 
into  the  town,  put  them  all  to  the  sword.  Probably 
they  had  another  motive  besides  revenge.  They 
knew  their  own  weakness,  and  wished  to  make  the 
thought  of  return  and  submission  impossible,  by  the 
commission  of  a  deed  that  the  conqueror  could  not 
be  expected  to  pardon.  The  further  safeguard  of  an 
oath  was  added.  They  joined  in  invoking  the  heaviest 
curses  on  the  head  of  anyone  who  should  draw  back 
from  their  contemplated  enterprise;  sinking  a  lump 
of  iron  in  the  sea,  they  swore  a  solemn  oath  that 
they  would  not  return  before  the  iron  should  float. 
As  it  turned  out,  the  Phocaean  leaders  had  not  over- 
rated the  danger   of  faint-heartedness  or,  perhaps  I 


26  THE    EXILES    OP    PHOC^A. 

should  say,  home-sickness  in  their  followers.  The 
larger  half  of  the  exiles  braved  the  anger  of  heaven 
and  the  more  imminent  danger  of  Persian  vengeance 
for  their  slaughtered  countrymen,  and  returned  to 
their  native  town.  They  probably  threw  the  blame 
of  the  massacre  upon  their  absent  countrymen,  and 
Harpagus  was  not  unwilling  to  believe  them. 

The  bolder  and  more  resolute  spirits  among  the 
exiles  continued  their  voyage  to  Alalia,  which  they 
reached  in  safety.  They  brought  with  them  a  for- 
midable force  of  war-ships,  no  less  than  sixty  pente- 
conters  or  fifty- oared  vessels,  and  they  at  once 
took  up  an  occupation  which  had  been  pursued  in 
the  Mediterranean  from  time  immemorial,  and  which, 
indeed,  has  become  extinct  only  within  the  memory 
of  men  still  living — piracy.  But  they  were  intruding 
on  the  domain  of  two  powerful  rivals,  Etruria  and 
Carthage.  Neither,  we  may  presume,  viewed  the 
practice  with  any  disfavour,  but  they  could  not 
tolerate  it  when  carried  on  against  themselves.  An 
alliance  was  formed  between  the  two  for  the  pur- 
pose of  putting  down  the  new-comers.  The  com- 
bined Carthaginian  and  Etrurian  fleet,  consisting  of 
one  hundred  and  twenty  ships,  met  the  Phocaeans 
near  their  new  abode.  A  fierce  conflict  followed. 
We  have  only  the  Greek  account  of  the  result,  and 
in  this  a  victory  is  claimed  for  the  Phocaeans,  but 
it  was  a  victory  that  was  not  less  disastrous  than  a 


THE    EXILES    OF   PHOCfiA.  27 

defeat.  Forty  out  of  the  sixty  penteconters  were 
sunk,  and  the  remaining  twenty  had  their  heaks  so 
bent  and  blunted  that  they  were  unfit  for  service. 
That  their  antagonists  had  suffered  even  more  severely 
may,  perhaps,  be  concluded  from  the  fact  that  they 
did  not  attempt  to  attack  again  an  enemy  that  was 
practically  defenceless. 

But  the  continuance  of  this  immunity  could  not  be 
relied  upon,  and  the  Phocaeans  had  to  seek  another 
home.  This  they  found  on  the  west  coast  of  Italy, 
or,  as  it  was  then  called,  (Enotria.  Vela,  otherwise 
called  Velia  and  Elea,  was  the  name  of  their  final 
settlement.  The  place  was  suggested  by  a  citizen 
of  a  neighbouring  Greek  settlement,  Poseidonia,  who 
at  the  same  time  did  the  exiles  the  service  of  reviv- 
ing their  faith  in  the  Divine  guidance  which  they 
had  been  attempting  to  follow.  The  unlucky  expe- 
dition to  Cyrnus  had  been  made  in  obedience  to  an 
oracle,  which  had  bidden  them  make  Cyrnus  the 
object  of  their  search.  Their  Poseidonian  friend 
explained  to  them  that  the  true  Cyrnus  was  not  the 
island  so  called,  but  a  local  hero  worshipped  at  Vela 
and  reputed  to  be  the  son  of  Hercules. 

Vela  continued  to  flourish  for  many  centuries,  and 
still  exists.  It  is  now  called  Castell  a  Mare  della 
Brucca.  Under  the  name  of  Elea  it  became  famous 
as  the  seat  of  a  school  of  philosophy  known  as  the 
Eleatic.     The  Phocsean  settlers  were  joined  by  other 


28  THE    EXILES    OF    PHOCAA. 

exiles  from  Ionia,  and  among  these  was  Xenophanos, 
a  native  of  Colophon,  a  philosopher  and  poet  of  no 
mean  eminence. 

Little  remains  either  of  his  speculations  or  of  hii^ 
verse.  Perhaps  we  may  with  most  reason  regret  the 
poem  in  which  he  described  the  "  Median  Invasion," 
and  celebrated  the  foundation  of  Elea  by  his  heroic 
kinsmen,  the  "Exiles  of  Phocaea.' 


MARATHON 


THERr.:OPYLAE 


,ytan^d>  G€cj\JCstah^ 


CHAPTER  17. 

THE  BATTLEFIELD  OF  FREEDOM. 

ALL  the  Greek  cities  of  the  mainland  of  Asia 
Minor  shared  the  fate  of  Phocsea,  though  all 
were  not  equally  resolute  in  protestin:  against  it. 
The  islands  which  lie  near  the  western  shore  soon 
lost  their  independence,  and  even  the  more  remote 
were  threatened.  Europe  itself  was  not  safe.  Though 
the  Persian  King  Darius  made  a  disastrous  failure  in 
his  attempt  to  annex  the  desolate  wastes  of  Scythia,  * 
his  lieutenants  conquered  Thrace  and  received  the 
submission  of  Macedonia. 

By  this  last  acquisition  the  Persian  Empire  was 
brought  up  to  the  northern  frontier  of  Mainland  Greece, 
and  it  became  evident  that  the  conquering  spirit  of  the 
new  Asiatic  power  would  not  rest  till  an  effort  had 
been  made  to  bring  the  whole  Hellenic  race  under 

*  The  region  now  known  as  Southern  Russia  from  the  B.  Prutb 
to  the  mouths  of  the  Don. 


30  THE    BATTLE-FIELD    OP    FREEDOM. 

its  sway.  Meanwhile  the  Asiatic  Greeks  had  been 
growing  restless  under  the  Persian  rule.  An  open 
revolt,  which  doubtless  had  been  long  meditated,  was 
hastened  by  personal  causes.  Histiseus,  tyrant  of 
Miletus,  had  done  a  signal  service  to  Darius,*  and 
the  king  had  rewarded  him  by  carrying  him  back  to 
his  capital  and  making  him  one  of  his  confidential 
advisers.  The  Greek  soon  wearied  of  his  splendid 
captivity,  and  conceived  the  idea— somewhat  extrava- 
gant, it  seems  to  us— of  putting  an  end  to  it  by 
exciting  a  revolt  among  the  King's  Greek  dependencies. 
He  hoped  that  he  should  himself  be  chosen  to  suppress 
it.  The  ambition  of  his  son-in-law  and  vicegerent  at 
Miletus  had  been  working  meanwhile  to  the  same  end. 
This  man,  Aristagoras  by  name,  had  hoped  to  aggran- 
dize himself  by  adding  the  island  of  Naxos  to  the 
dominion  of  his  Persian  master.  He  had  induced  the 
King  to  send  a  fleet  under  his  orders.  A  Persian 
noble  was,  however,  associated  with  him  in  his  command. 

*  Darius  had  transported  his  army  across  the  Danube  on  a 
floating  bridge,  constructed  out  of  his  fleet,  and  had  left  the 
Greek  contingents  in  his  army  to  guard  it.  Their  commanders 
were  strongly  inclined  to  break  it  up.  Miltiades  of  Athens,  who 
was  tyrant  of  the  Thracian  Chersonese  (the  Athos  peninsula  and 
its  neighbours  to  the  west),  strongly  urged  this  course.  His- 
tiaeus  as  strongly  resisted  it.  He  represented  that  their  position 
as  despotic  rulers  depended  on  Persian  support,  and  that  the 
destruction  of  Darius  and  his  army  would  be  followed  by  their 
own  falL 


THE   BATTLE-FIELD   OP   FREEDOM.  Si 

A  fierce  quarrel  broke  out  between  the  two  colleagues, 
and  the  Persian  took  his  revenge  by  sending  secret, 
intelligence  to  Naxos  of  the  meditated  attack.  The 
Naxians,  thus  put  on  their  guard,  put  themselves 
into  a  state  of  defence,  and  the  expedition  failed, 
leaving  Aristagoras  hopelessly  involved.  He  had  lost 
his  credit  with  the  King,  and  he  had  made  himself 
responsible  for  a  great  part  of  the  expenditure.  In 
the  midst  of  his  perplexity  the  message  from  His- 
tiaeus  arrived  with  the  suggestion  of  a  revolt,  and  he 
saw  in  it  a  way  out  of  his  difiiculties. 

His  first  step  was  to  lay  down  his  despotic  power. 
This  was  a  most  politic  measure.  To  combine  deliv- 
erance from  domestic  tyranny  and  freedom  from  a 
foreign  yoke,  was  a  prospect  which  appealed  strongly 
to  the  Greek  mind.  The  tyrants  were  banished  or 
slain  everywhere,  and  before  many  months  had  passed 
every  Greek  city  was  in  arms  against  the  King. 

Aristagoras  sought  allies  in  Mainland  Greece.  The 
Spartans  repulsed  him  ;  but  the  Athenians  and  Ere- 
trians  sent  a  squadron  of  thirty-five  ships  to  his  help. 
The  arrival  of  the  contingent  so  emboldened  the 
Asiatic  Greeks  that  they  attacked  Sardis,  the  seat  of 
the  Satrap  or  Governor  of  Western  Asia  Minor.  The 
city  was  captured,  sacked,  and  burnt.  After  this 
success  everything  went  wrong.  Finally  at  Lade  in 
496  B.C.  the  Greek  fleet  was  entirely  destroyed,  and 
the  revolt  was  at  an  end.    Miletus  was  destroyed, 


32  THE   BATTLE-FIELD    OP    FREEDOM. 

and  its  inhabitants  were  sold  as  slaves;  the  other 
Greek  cities  were  punished,  but  less  severely. 

It  remained,  however,  for  Darius  to  exact  retribution 
from  the  audacious  strangers  who  had  ventured  to  help 
his  rebellious  subjects,  and  even  to  sack  and  burn 
one  of  his  capital  cities.  Every  day— so  the  story 
runs — as  the  King  sat  at  the  feast  a  slave  repeated 
to  him  three  times,  "  Master,  remember  the  Athenians !" 
Four  years  were  spent  in  preparation.  Then  in  492 
the  Satrap  Mardonius  led  an  expedition  westward. 
He  marched  with  his  army  along  the  northern  shore 
of  the  iEgean,  while  his  fleet  accompanied  him.  But 
the  fleet  met  with  a  storm  so  furious  that  three  hun- 
dred galleys  were  wrecked,  while  the  fierce  Thracian 
tribes  furiously  attacked  the  army.  Mardonius  repulsed 
them,  but  suffered  so  much  in  the  encounter  that  he 
thought  it  wiser  to  return.  Again  Darius  busied 
himself  with  his  preparations,  and  when  two  more 
years  had  passed  they  were  once  more  complete.  He 
could  now  punish  his  insolent  enemies,  and  put  them, 
for  the  future,  under  a  government  which  would 
probably  make  them  better  behaved.* 

Six  hundred  ships  of  war  with  a  fleet  of  transports, 

*  In  510  the  Athenians  expelled  the  family  of  Pisistratus  and 
established  the  republican  form  of  Government.  The  banished 
tyrant,  Hippias,  applied  for  help  to  the  Persian  King  and  it  was 
one  of  the  objects  of  the  expedition  against  Greece  to  restore 
him  to  power. 


THE   BATTLE-FIELD    OF   FREEDOM  33 

carrying  more  than  a  hundred  thousand  men,  of  whom 
a  considerable  part  were  cavalry,  assembled  at  Samos. 
Few  doubted,  the  Persian  leaders  certainly  did  not 
doubt,  that  their  task  would  be  easily  accomplished. 
Greece  was  but  an  insignificant  district,  scarcely 
equal  to  one  of  the  one  hundred  and  twenty-seven 
provinces  of  the  Persian  Empire;  and  the  prestige 
of  victory   was  with  the  invaders.* 

The  Persian  generals — there  were  twOy  one  of 
them,  Datis  by  name,  a  Mede  by  birth — took  a 
direct  course  over  the  Mgesni.  Naxos,  which  had 
stood  a  siege  ten  years  before,  was  surrendered  without 
a  blow,  though  it  could  muster  eight  thousand  heavy- 
armed.  The  neighbouring  islands  were  reduced  by 
the  fleet.  Eretria,  one  of  the  chief  offenders  in  the 
late  war,  fell.  Separated  from  Mainland  Greece  by 
only  a  narrow  strait,  it  was  captured  after  a  brief  siege, 
some  of  its  principal  citizens  betraying  it  to  the  foe. 
From  Eretria  the  Persians  crossed  to  the  bay  of 
Marathon,  a  spot  on  the  Eastern  coast  of  Attica,  and 
distant  a  little  more  than  twenty  miles  from  the  city. 
The  bay,  sheltered  as  it  was  on  the  north  side  by  a 
promontory,  and  skirted  by  a  firm  beach,  was  a 
favourable  place  for  landing,  nor,  as  it  seems,  did 
the  Athenians  make  any  attempt  to  hinder  it. 

*  Herodotus  goes  so  far  as  to  say  that  it  was  at  Marathon 
that  for  the  first  time  Greek  soldiers  dared  *  to  face  men  eUd 
ID  the  Median  garb.* 

8 


34  THE   BATTLE-FIELD    OP    FREEDOM. 

The  whole  force  of  the  city  was,  however,  ready 
to  do  battle  with  the  invaders.  Help  had  been  sought 
from  Sparta,  the  runner  who  bore  the  request,  traversing 
the  distance,  which  was  not  less  than  one  hundred 
and  forty  miles,  in  forty-eight  hours.*  The  Spartans 
promised  assistance,  but  could  not  give  it  at  once. 
It  was  their  custom  to  set  out  on  an  expedition  at 
the  full  moon,  and  at  no  other  time ;  the  moon  then 
wanted  five  days  to  being  full,  and  there  must 
therefore  be  five  days'  delay.  Accordingly  the 
Athenians  were  left  alone  to  bear  the  brunt  of  the 
Persian  attack. 

They  were  joined,  however,  on  the  eve  of  the 
battle  by  a  thousand  heavy-armed  soldiers  from 
Plataea.  This  was  a  little  town,  numbering,  we 
may  calculate,  some  eight  or  ten  thousand  inhabi- 
tants, which  had  seceded  from  the  Boeotian  confederacy, 
and  to  which  Athens  had  accorded  her  protection 
some  twenty  years  before.f  Unasked,  moved  by  a 
gratitude  which  is  not  the  less  admirable  because  it 
was  in  accord   with   her  interests,  the  gallant  little 

*  Not  an  impossible  feat,  though  Sir  George  Cox  doubts  it, 
and  even  suggests  that  the  name  of  the  runner,  Pheidippides 
(sparer  of  horses)  indicates  that  hia  remarkable  speed  was  a 
myth. 

t  This  is  the  date  which  Mr.  Grote  prefers  to  that  more 
commonly  accepted  by  chronologers,  which  would  make  the 
occurrence  nine  years  earlier — in  519  B.C.  rather  than  510. 


THE   BATTLE-FIELD    OF   FREEDOM.  85 

state  sent  her  whole  force  to  stand  by  her  ally  in 
this  critical  moment. 

The  military  organization  of  Athens  was  but  ill 
suited  to  meet  a  sudden  danger.  The  command  of 
the  army  was  held  in  commission  by  ten  generals, 
one  for  each  of  the  ten  tribes  of  Attica.  Its  move- 
ments were  decided  by  a  majority  of  votes,  but  the 
details  of  tactics  were  under  the  direction  of  a  single 
general,  all  taking  the  office  for  a. single  day,  and 
in  regular  rotation.  An  officer  entitled  the  polemarch, 
or  "  war-chief,"  the  third  in  rank  of  the  ten  archons, 
was  an  eleventh  in  the  military  council. 

On  this  occasion  the  ten  were  equally  divided  in 
opinion.  Five  were  for  postponing  an  engagement. 
It  would  be  better,  they  thought,  to  wait  for  help, 
such,  for  instance,  as  the  Spartans  had  promised, 
from  the  other  Greek  cities.  Five,  headed  by  Milti- 
ades,  who  was  beyond  doubt  the  most  distinguished 
Athenian  of  the  time,*  pleaded  for  immediate  action. 

To  shut  themselves  up  within  their  walls,  and 
there  await  the  Persian  attack,  would,  he  argued, 
be  to  invite  the  fate  of  Eretria.  There  traitors  had 
been    found   to  open  the  gates   to  the  enemy,   and 

*  Miltiades  had,  as  we  have  seen,  incurred  the  enmity  of  the 
Persian  king  and  fled  to  Athens.  Tried  on  the  charge  of  having 
been  hostile  to  freedom,  he  had  been  acquitted  by  a  popular 
vote,  and  had  shortly  afterwards  been  elected  to  the  office  of 
general.  (See  p.  30.) 


36  THE    BATTLE-FIELD    OF    FREEDOM. 

traitors  would  not  be  wanting  in  Athens.  There 
were  many  whose  affections  and  interests  inclined 
them  to  the  cause  of  the  banished  tyrants,  and  these 
would  certainly  be  active  at  such  a  time.  Miltiades, 
backed,  it  is  said,  by  Themistocles  and  Aristides, 
urged  these  views  in  the  council  of  war,  and  pri- 
vately on  the  polemarch,  Callimachus  by  name,  on 
whose  casting  vote  the  decision  depended.  Happily 
the  polemarch  was  persuaded,  and  it  was  resolved 
to  fight  at  once.  Miltiades's  nine  colleagues  yielded 
to  him  their  right  of  command,  and  the  unity  of 
purpose  that  is  so  essential  to  success  was  thus 
secured.  Whether  the  army  was  already  encamped 
on  the  rising  ground  that  overlooks  the  plain,  or 
was  still  within  the  city  walls  when  this  discussion 
took  place,  cannot  be  determined.  That  Miltiades 
should  have  waited  till  his  own  proper  day  of  command 
came  round,  it  is  difficult  to  believe,  though  we  are 
told  that  he  did  so. 

However  this  may  be,  it  was  on  the  12th  of 
September  490  B.C.,  that  the  battle  which  was  to 
decide  the  fate  of  Greece,  we  may  even  say  of  the 
world,  was  fought.  Miltiades  drew  up  his  force,  ten 
thousand,  or,  if  the  Plataeans  are  to  be  added  to  that 
number,  eleven  thousand  in  all.  * 

The  ten  tribes  of  the  Athenian  people  had  each 

•  There  were,  however,  some  armed  slavea. 


THE    BATTLE-FIELD    OF    FREEDOM.  87 

their  separate  place;  that  to  which  the  polemarch 
belonged  occupying  the  place  of  honour  on  the  right 
wing,  while  the  Platseans  were  on  the  extreme  left. 
The  line  was  so  extended  as  to  be  equal  in  length 
to  that  of  the  far  more  numerous  Persian  host.  It 
was  a  bold  piece  of  strategy,  for  it  involved  a  dan- 
gerous weakening  of  the  centre,  where,  indeed,  the 
troops  were  but  three  deep,  but  it  was  a  protection 
against  the  danger,  so  formidable  to  all  non-profes- 
sional soldiers,  of  being  outflanked.  At  the  word  of 
command  the  little  army  moved  forward,  at  first  at 
a  moderate  pace,  afterwards,  when  the  distance 
between  them  and  the  enemy  was  something  less 
than  a  mile,  at  a  run. 

The  effect  of  this  movement,  which,  indeed,  seemed 
to  the  Persians  the  act  of  madmen,  was  astonishing. 
It  put  an  end  to  the  confidence  with  which  the 
invaders  anticipated  the  result  of  the  conflict.  The  men 
who  dared  so  to  charge  a  far  superior  foe  must  have, 
they  thought,  a  more  than  human  strength  or  must 
rely  on  more  than  human  help.  When  the  two  lines 
closed  in  conflict,  the  Athenian  wings,  on  which 
Miltiades  had  massed  his  troops  to  the  utmost  of  his 
resources,  were  speedily  victorious.  The  Greeks 
were  superior  in  strength  and  equipment  to  their 
adversaries,  and  here  at  least  their  formation  was 
not  wanting  in  solidity.  Things  went  less  favourably 
at  the  centre.     Here — always  the  post  of  honour  in 


38  THE   BATTLE-FIELD    OF   FREEDOM. 

an  Asiatic  army — the  best  troops,  the  native  Persians 
and  the  warlike  Sacae,  were  posted.  The  Greek  line, 
perilously  weak  as  it  was,  was  broken,  and  the 
troops  composing  it  were  forced  back  to  the  very  edge 
of  the  plain.  Miltiades  was  not  so  occupied  with  his 
own  success  as  not  to  perceive  this  reverse,  which, 
indeed  he  must  have  anticipated.  He  recalled  the 
victorious  wings  from  their  pursuit  of  the  flying 
enemy,  and  wheeled  them  round  against  the  Persian 
centre,  which  they  took  in  the  rear.  This,  prob- 
ably disordered  by  its  own  success,  was  speedily 
broken,  and  the  whole  army  fled  to  their  ships. 
Many  were  lost  in  the  marsh  which  bordered  the 
plain  on  the  north,  but  the  rest  made  good  their 
escape.  The  Athenians,  it  is  true,  made  a  determined 
effort  to  destroy  the  ships,  but  they  failed,  and, 
indeed,  suffered  no  small  loss  in  the  attempt.  Several 
of  their  bravest  warriors  fell  at  this  spot,  Callimachus 
the  polemarch,  Ctesilaus,  one  of  the  ten  generals, 
and  a  brother  of  the  poet  jEschylus,  himself  also 
among  the  combatants.  Only  seven  ships  were  burnt. 
The  total  loss  of  the  Persians  was  six  thousand  four 
hundred ;  that  of  the  Athenians  and  their  Plataean  allies 
was  one  hundred  and  ninety-two.  These  were  buried 
on  the  field ;  a  mound  was  raised  over  them,  and  ten 
pillars — one  for  each  tribe — preserved  for  posterity  the 
names  of  those  who  had  fallen.  Ever  after  the  *  Men 
of  Marathon '  were  regarded  as  the  foremost  heroes 


THE  BATTLE-FIELD  OF  FREEDOM.  89 

of  Athenian  history.  Any  satire  or  censure  directed 
against  the  degeneracy  of  later  times  was  always 
pointed  by  a  contrast  with  the  warriors  who  had 
fought  and  conquered  in  this  famous  battle. 

The  victorious  troops  had,  however,  something  yet 
to  do.  The  Persian  fleet,  instead  of  putting  out  to 
sea,  sailed  towards  Athens.  The  partisans  of  the 
tyrants  had  exhibited  a  signal  which  indicated  that 
they  were  prepared  to  betray  the  city.  But  the 
signal,  the  flashing  of  a  shield,  probably  from  the 
height  of  Pentelicus,  had  been  caught  by  the  eye  of 
Miltiades,  and  he  conjectured  its  import.  Instantly 
he  gave  the  signal  to  march;  the  army  made  its 
way  with  all  speed  to  the  city,  which  they  reached 
before  the  fleet,  which  had  to  traverse  the  long 
coast  line  from  the  bay  of  Marathon  to  Athens,  * 
could  arrive.  Overawed  by  this  sudden  movement, 
the  traitors  did  not  venture  to  act,  and  the  Persians, 
after  lingering  a  few  days,  sailed  homewards. 

Two  thousand  Spartans  arrived  on  the  day  after 
the  battle.  They  had  started  immediately  on  the 
appearance  of  the  full  moon  in  the  heavens,  and 
marching  with  all  the  speed  that  they  could  use  had 
reached  the  frontier  of  Attica  on  the  third  day. 
This  was  a  feat  scarcely  less  astonishing  than  that 
of  the  runner  Pheidippides,  as  it  implies  a  march  of 

•  This  coast  line  could  not  have  been  less  than  sixty  miles. 


40  TAB   BATTLE-FIELD    OF    FREEDOM. 

more  than  forty  miles  on  three  successive  days. 
All  that  they  could  do  was  to  visit  the  field  of 
battle,  where  the  corpses  of  the  fallen  Persians  still 
lay  unburied. 

It  is  a  remarkable  fact  that  no  mention  is  made 
of  the  Persian  cavalry.  Yet  a  force  of  cavalry  cer- 
tainly accompanied  the  expedition,  and  might  have 
been  used,  we  cannot  but  think,  with  great  effect. 
Professor  Curtius  thinks  that  the  Persians  were  pre- 
paring to  embark  when  Miltiades  attacked  them, 
and  that  the  cavalry  were  already  on  board.  He 
would  thus  account  for  the  success  with  which  the 
embarkation  seems  to  have  taken  place  after  the 
battle.  If  everything  had  not  beipn  in  readiness  the 
Persians  must  have  suffered  far  more  severely  than 
they  actual]  y^  did. 


CHAPTER  V. 

TEE  THREE  HUNDRED,^ 

MY  next  chapter  will  tell  the  story  of  how  Greece- 
was  finally  saved  from  the  Persians :  this  will  be 
devoted  to  a  narrative  of  the  first  attempt  to  stop  the 
advance  of  the  invader,  an  attempt  that  was  not  less 
noble  because  it  was  unsuccessful.  The  isolated  Greek 
communities,  always  jealous  of  each  other,  and  often 
hostile,  had  been  coerced  into  something  like  uiiion 
by  the  danger  that  threatened  them.  A  congress  met 
at  the  Istlimus,  and  it  was  determined  to  make  a 
stand  at  the  northern  boundary  of  Greece.  This  was 
the  range  of  Olympus,  dividing  Thessaly  from  Southern 
Macedonia,  and  penetrable,  through  part  of  the  year, 
only  by  the  pass  of  Tempo,  f  The  Thessalians 
strongly  urged  the  taking  up  of  this  position.  They 
promised  to  assist  in  the  defence  of  it  with  their 
whole   available  force,  declaring,  that  if  it  was  not 

•  See  note  on  p.  57. 

t  A  plural  word  meaning  literally  'the  valleys*. 


42  THE   THREE   HUNDRED. 

done,  they  would  be  compelled  to  provide  for  theii 
own  safety  by  submitting  to  the  Persian  King.  A 
force  of  ten  thousand  heavy-armed  was^  accordingly 
sent  northward,  and  for  a  short  time  actually  occupied 
the  pass.  But  their  stay  was  brief.  They  discovered 
that  the  position  was  untenable.  There  was  another 
pass  some  little  distance  to  the  westward,  impracti- 
cable indeed,  owing  to  its  altitude,  in  winter,  but  at 
that  time — it  was  early  summer— perfectly  available. 
The  Greek  force  retreated  southward,  leaving  the 
greater  part  of  Northern  Greece  at  the  mercy  of  the 
invader.  The  position  which  it  was  now  resolved  to 
take  up  was  the  Pass  of  Thermopylae,  the  "  Hot 
Gates, "  so  called  from  the  hot  springs  which  rise  in 
the  neighbourhood.  The  "  Gates "  were  not  a  pass  in 
the  ordinary  sense  of  the  term,  Le,  a  narrow  defile 
between  two  closely-approaching  mountains.  There 
was  a  mountain  on  one  side,  and  an  impassable  marsh 
on  the  other,  reaching  to  the  sea.*  This  was  the 
case  at  both  the  western  or  outer  and  the  eastern 
or  inner  "  Gates, "  the  road  at  both  being  so  narrow 
that  only  a  single  vehicle  could  travel  on  it.  The 
intervening  space,  about  a  mile  in  length,  was  much 
wider.  It  was  here  that  the  springs  rose  from  the  ground. 
Thermopylae  ofifered  to  the  defending  force  an 
advantage  which  Tempe  did  not  possess.     In  its  near 

*  The   coast  line  is  now  so  changed  that  the  locality  cannot 
be  recognized. 


THE    THREE    HUNDRED.  43 

neighbourhood  the  strait,  dividing  the  island  of  Euboea 
from  the  mainland,  was  so  narrow  that  it  could  be 
easily  blocked.  It  was  hoped,  therefore,  that  the 
adv^ance  of  the  invader  could  be  simultaneously  stopped 
by  both  sea  and  land.  The  fleet  accordingly  took  up 
its  position  at  a  spot  called  Artemisium.*  It  num- 
bered two  hundred  and  eighty  ships,  under  the  command 
of  the  Spartan  Eurybiades,  the  Athenians,  with 
patriotic  self-denial,  forbearing  to  press  a  claim  to 
which  their  superior  skill  and  the  magnitude  of  their 
contingent,  a  hundred  in  all,  would  have  given  great 
weight.  At  the  same  time  Leonidas,  one  of  the 
Spartan  kings,  occupied  Thermopylas  with  a  force 
which  numbered  about  four  thousand  heavy-armed. 
How  many  other  troops  were  present  we  do  not  know. 
The  three  hundred  Spartans  were  doubtless  attended 
by  armed  Helots,  But  it  is  difficult  to  suppose  that 
many  more  than  four  thousand  could  have  found 
camping-room  in  the  limited  space  within  the  "  Gates. " 
The  movements  of  Xerxes  do  not  belong  to  my 
story.  It  will  suffice  to  say  that,  arrived  at  the 
outer  end  of  the  pass,  he  waited  four  days  before 
ordering  an  attack,  in  expectation,  Herodotus  tells 
us,  that  the  defenders  would  fly.  A  horseman  whom 
he  sent  to  reconnoitre,  brought  back  as  his  report 
that   he    had    seen    the    Spartans   engaged,   some  in 

*  From  a  temple  of  Artemis  (Diana)  which  crowned  one  of  the 
neighbouring  headlands. 


44  THE   THREE    HUNDRED. 

martial  exercises,  some  in  carefully  combing  their  hair. 
The  King  asked  an  explanation  from  one  Demaratus, 
himself  an  exiled  king  of  Sparta,  who  was  accom- 
panying the  expedition.  Demaratus  repeated  what 
he  had  often  said  before,  that  Xerxes  could  not  expect 
to  make  his  way  without  a  desperate*  struggle. 
"  These  men,  *  he  went  on,  *  are  preparing  to  fight 
for  the  pass ;  they  have  a  custom  of  carefully  combing 
their  hair  when  they  know  that  they  will  have  to 
fight  to  the  death."  He  did  not  convince  the  King, 
who  waited  for  a  submission  that  never  came.  On 
the  fifth  day  he  sent  a  force  of  Modes  and  Persians 
with  orders  to  bring  these  presumptuous  men  into 
his  presence.  They  attacked  the  position — it  was 
by  this  time  fortified  by  a  wall  built  across  the 
pass— but  failed  utterly.  From  morning  to  evening 
they  renewed  the  assault,  fresh  troops  continually 
coming  up,  but  only  to  meet  with  the  same  disas- 
trous repulse.  The  following  day  the  Persian  Guard, 
known  as  the  Immortals,  took  up  the  fighting,  but 
to  no  better  purpose.  They  suffered  even  more 
heavily,  for  a  feigned  retreat  on  the  part  of  the 
Greeks  drew  them  on  to  a  spot  where  a  frightful 
slaughter  was  inflicted  on  them.  Thrice  did  Xerxes 
leap  up  from  his  seat  as  he  watched  the  conflict,  in 
fear  for  his  army.  A  third  day's  fighting  ended  in 
the  same  way. 

At  this  point  an  act  of  infamous  treachery  helpod 


THE    THREE   HUNDRED.  45 

the  King  out  of  his  perplexity.  A  Melian,  by  name 
Ephialtes,  came  to  him  and  offered  to  show  him  how 
he  might  outflank  the  defenders  of  the  pass.  There 
was  a  path  over  the  hills  which  brought  out  the 
traveller  beyond  the  inner  "  Gate. "  Leonidas  knew 
of  this  path  before  he  had  taken  up  his  position  at 
Thermopylae.  The  Phocians,  however,  had  undertaken 
to  guard  it,  and  he  felt  secure.  But  the  Phocians 
failed  him.  Apparently  they  neglected  to  place  any 
outposts.  Anyhow  the  Persians  were  close  upon  them 
before  they  knew  of  their  approach.  It  was  only  by 
the  crackling  of  the  dead  leaves  under  foot,  as  the 
invaders  made  their  way  through  the  oak  forest  that 
clothed  the  mountain  side,  that  they  became  aware 
of  their  danger.  They  hastily  armed  themselves. 
The  Persians,  surprised  to  see  an  armed  force  where 
they  expected  no  opposition,  halted.  *  Who  are  these  ? " 
said  Hydarnes,  the  Persian  leader,  to  the  traitor  who 
was  guiding  them.  He  was  afraid,  Herodotus  tells 
us,  that  they  were  Spartans.  He  had  found  out  what 
manner  of  men  these  were  two  days  before,  for  it 
was  he  who  led  the  Immortals.  *  They  are  Phocians, " 
replied  Ephialtes.  At  once  Hydarnes  ordered  an  attack. 
The  difference  between  Spartans  and  Phocians  was 
soon  evident.  A  shower  of  arrows  sufficed  to  send  the 
guardians  of  the  path  in  headlong  flight. 

The    Greeks    at   Thermopylae   were   by   this  time 
informed  of  the  fate  that  was  approaching.     The  seer 


46  THE   THREE   HUNDRED. 

Megistias  had  seen  in  the  sacrifices  the  signs  of  impending 
death ;  and  soon  more  certain  information  was  brought 
by  deserters  from  the  Persian  army;  finally  the 
scouts  came  hurrying  into  the  camp,  with  the  news 
that  the  enemy  were  in  sight.  Leonidas  acted  at 
once.  His  allies  he  sent  away;  they  were  willing, 
probably  anxious,  to  save  themselves;  and  he  would 
not  hinder  them.  But  he  and  his  Spartans  elected 
to  stay.  Honour  forbade  them  to  fly  from  an  enemy ; 
as  for  Leonidas,  he  had  the  still  stronger  motive, 
that  his  death,  if  the  oracles  spake  truly,  would  save 
Sparta.  The  city  must  perish,  or  one  of  its  kings; 
and  he  gladly  chose  the  alternative  so  glorious  to 
himself.  The  seer,  though  not  a  Spartan  by  birth, 
refused  to  depart;  but  he  sent  away  his  only  son. 
The  Thespian  contingent,  seven  hundred  strong,  also 
elected  to  stay.  Four  hundred  Thebans  were  kept, 
it  was  said,  against  their  will. 

Up  to  this  time  the  defending  force  had  fought, 
for  the  most  part,  behind  a  wall  which  had  been 
built  across  the  western  end  of  the  pass  many  years 
before  by  the  Phocians.  They  had  found  it  in  ruins, 
and  had  repaired  and  heightened  it.  Now  that  they 
had  resolved  to  die,  the  Spartans  were  bent  on  selling 
their  lives  as  dearly  as  they  could,  and  advancing 
beyond  the  wall,  assumed  the  offensive.  The  Per- 
sians gave  way  before  them;  urged  on  though  they 
were  by  the  scourge,  they  could  not  resist  the  furious 


THE    THREE    HUNDRED.  47 

valour  of  the  Greeks;  many  were  slain,  many  thrust 
into  the  sea,  many  trampled  down  by  their  own 
countrymen.  One  writer  declares  that  the  Spartans 
actually  penetrated  to  within  a  short  distance  of 
Xerxes.  Still,  to  a  conflict  fought  at  such  tremen- 
dous odds,  there  could  be  but  one  issue.  Early  in  the 
day  Leonidas  fell.  There  was  a  fierce  struggle  for 
his  body;  four  times  the  Spartans  were  borne  back  by 
overpowering  numbers,  four  times  they  rallied,  suc- 
ceeding at  last  in  carrying  off  the  body  of  the  king. 
As  the  day  passed,  their  spears  and  swords  were 
shivered  by  incessant  use,  and  they  were  driven  to 
use  their  hands  and  even  their  teeth.  At  last,  almost 
unarmed,  they  withdrew  to  a  hillock  which  stood  at 
the  eastern  end  of  the  pass.  Here  tliey  were  sur- 
rounded by  the  Persians,  and  overwhelmed  with 
showers  of  stones  and  arrows.  Not  a  man  survived;  * 
but  the  Thebans  pleaded  the  treacherous  submission 
of  their  state,  and  though  personally  of  the  patriotic 
party  their  plea  was  allowed,  and  their  lives  were 
spared.     But    they    suffered  the   ignominy   of  being 

*  Tradition  preserved  the  names  of  some  who  made  themselves 
conspicuous  for  valour  among  that  band  of  heroes.  One  of  them, 
Dieneces  by  name,  was  as  witty  as  he  was  brave.  'The  bar- 
barians are  so  many,  "  said  a  native  of  the  district,  who  had 
seen  the  Persian  host,  "  that  when  they  shoot  their  arrows,  the 
very  sun  will  be  darkened."  "Good,"  said  the  Spartan,  "then 
we  shall  fight  in  the  shade."     Two  of  the  Three  Hundred  had 


48  THE   THREE   HUNDRED. 

branded,  as  cattle  are  branded,  with  the  king's  mark. 
The  slain  were  buried  where  they  fell,  the  Spartans 
lying  by  themselves.  A  pillar  surmounted  the  mound 
which  covered  their  remains,  bearing  this  incsription : 

*Go,  tell  at  Sparta,  thou  that  passest  by, 
That  here  obedient  to  her  laws  we  lie.* 

Another  monument  commemorated  in  general  terms 
the  valour  of  the  whole  force  which  had  attempted 
to  stay  the  Persian  advance. 

*  Four  thousand  warriors  from  the  Apian  land  • 
Did  thrice  a  hundred  myriads  here  withstand.* 

Both  these  epigrams  were  the  work  of  the  famous 
Simonides  of  Ceos.  It  was  he  also  who  paid  this 
tribute  to  the  memory  of  his  friend  the  seer  who 
scorned  to  leave  his  Spartan  patrons: 

•Beneath  thy  feet  the  wise  Megistias  lies, 
Skilled  to  discern  the  warnings  of  the  skies; 

been  sent  away  from  the  camp,  and  lay,  suffering  from  ophthal- 
mia, at  the  neighbouring  village.  They  could  not  agree  as  to 
what  their  tradition  of  military  honour  bade  tliein  do.  One 
ordered  his  attendant  to  lead  him  to  the  field  of  battle,  where 
he  fought  and  fell  with  the  rest.  The  other  returned  home,  to 
meet  the  scorn  of  his  countrymen.  He  wiped  away  his  dis- 
grace by  conspicuous  valour  at  the  battle  of  PlatsBa. 
*  The  Peloponnesus. 


THE    THREE    HUNDRED.  49 

From  swift  Spercheius  came  the  Mede,  and  slew 
The  blameless  prophet.     Well  his  fate  he  knew; 
Yet  scorned  to  fly,  choosing  to  share  the  doom 
Of  his.  dear  Spartan  friends.    Behold  his  tomb!* 

Above  Leonidas  the  *  lion  king '  the  piety  of  his 
countrymen  erected  a  tomb,  which  bore  the  appro- 
priate semblance  of  the  king  of  beasts.  For  this  also 
Simonides  composed  an  inscription.     It  runs: 

'Bravest  of  beasts  am  I;  of  men  most  brave 
Who  lies  below,  and  now    I  watch  his  grave. 
Lion  he  was  alike  in  name  and  heart, 
VHbM  had  I  ne'er  endured  this  watcher's  part.* 


CHAPTER  Vi 

THE  WOODEN  WALLS, 

NOTHING  strikes  us  more  painfully  as  we  read  the 
history  of  Greece  than  the  incessant  feuds  which 
were  carried  on  by  neighbouring  cities,  worshipping 
the  same  gods,  speaking  substantially  the  same  tongue, 
and  so  closely  akin  in  race  that  their  strife  was 
little  less  monstrous  than  civil  war.  It  sounds,  there- 
fore, something  like  a  paradox  when  a  Greek  histo- 
rian, writing  of  one  of  these  miserable  conflicts, 
declares,  "  this  war  was  the  saving  of  Greece."  For 
all  that  the  statement  is  strictly  true. 

Athens  and  iEgina,  separated  from  each  other  by 
some  fifteen  miles  of  sea,  had  been  at  feud  almost 
from  time  immemorial.  Comn  ercial  jealousy,  and 
the  petty  causes  of  offence  which  are  sure  to  occur 
between  neighbours,  are  sufficient  to  account  for  this 
enmity,  but  legend  had  preserved  or  invented  some 
special  way  of  explaining  it.  * 

*  Herodotus's  story  runs  in  something  of  this  fashion.  The 
people  of  Epidaurus,  a  town  on  the  north  eastern  coast  of  the 


ATHENA   PARTHENOS. 
The  VarvakeioQ  Statuette. 


THE   WOODEN   WALLS.  51 

It  is  needless  to  follow  the  course  of  the  war. 
It  will  suffice  to  say  that  Athens,  though  prohably 
the  stronger  state,  had  not  been  able  to  gain  any 
substantial  advantage  over  its  adversary.  It  was 
the  genius  of  Themistocles,  who  seems  to  have  had 
a  singular  capacity  for  discerning  the  real  bearing 
of  events,  and  to  have  foreseen  the  future  with  an 
almost  prophetic  instinct,  that  suggested  the  means 
by  which  the  war  was  to  be  brought  to  a  successful 
end,  and  at  the  same  time  to  become,  as  the  histo- 
rian remarks,  the  salvation  of  Greece. 

To  put  the  matter  briefly,  Themistocles  persuaded 
his    countrymen    to    bend  all  their  energies  to  the 

Peloponnesus,  had  suffered  from  several  years  of  famine,  and  had 
consulted  the  Delphian  oracle.  Apollo  bade  them  set  up  images 
of  Mother  Earth  and  the  Goddess  of  Increase.  *  Shall  the  imagei 
be  of  bronze  or  of  stone?"  asked  the  suppliants.  "Of  neither," 
replied  the  god,  *  but  of  the  garden  olive."  The  olive  was  found 
only,  or  in  its  finest  growth,  in  Athens,  and  to  Athens  acoord- 
ingly  the  Epidaurians  made  application  for  olive  wood.  It  was 
granted  on  the  condition  that  yearly  offerings  should  be  made 
to  the  Goddess  Athene  and  the  local  hero  Erectheus.  The  images 
were  made,  and  the  tribute  duly  rendered  for  many  years. 
After  a  while,  however,  JEgina,  which  was  a  colony  of  Epi- 
daurus,  revolted  against  its  mother  city,  and  in  the  course  of 
the  war  that  followed,  carried  off  the  images  of  olive  wood. 
The  Epidaurians  thenceforward  ceased  to  pay  their  offerings, 
and  referred  the  Athenians,  when  they  complained,  to  the 
people  of  .Egina.  They,  professing  to  know  nothing  of  the 
transaction,  refused  satisfaction. 


52  THE    WOODEN    WALLS. 

work  of  making  Athens  a  great  naval  power.  It 
is  not  difficult  to  believe  that  he  looked  beyond  the 
immediate  occasion.  An  enemy  far  more  formidable 
than  ^gina  threatened  his  native  country.  Persia, 
he  knew,  was  bound  to  avenge  the  insults  which  it 
had  received,  and  to  retrieve  its  defeats.  It  was 
making  gigantic  preparations  for  this  object,  and  the 
only  hope  of  safety  for  Athens  was  to  obtain  com- 
mand of  the  sea.  This  secured,  the  Athenian  people 
might  survive,  even  though  their  city,  which  was 
then,  it  will  be  remembered,  unprotected  by  walls, 
might  fall  into  the  hands  of  the  invader.  Fortunately 
the  means  for  constructing  a  powerful  fleet  were 
ready  to  his  hand.  The  city  possessed  in  the  silver 
mines  of  Laurium  *  a  source  of  revenue  which  might  be 
easily  employed  for  this  purpose.  The  proceeds  of  the 
mines  had  been  frittered  away  in  yearly  doles  to 
the  citizens.  Themistocles  persuaded  his  countrymen 
to  devote  the  whole,  a  sum  amounting  to  about 
^12,000 1  to  the  building  of  a  fleet.     The  immediate 

•  The  ore  taken  from  the  earth  in  these  mines  seems  to  have 
been  singularly  rich.  Within  the  last  few  years  silver  has  been 
profitably  extracted  from  the  refuse  of  the  old  workings. 

t  This  must,  of  course,  be  multiplied  many  times  to  arrive 
at  its  equivalent  in  spending  power,  as  stated  in  our  own  cur- 
rency. The  figure  itself  is  thus  reached:  Thirty  thousand 
citizens  received  a  yearly  dole  of  ten  drachmas,  a  drachma 
being  equal  in  value  to  9|d  of  our  money,  by  weight  of  silver. 


THE    WOODEN    WALLS.  53 

result  was  a  speedy  victory  over  MginsL ;  the  remoter 
gain  was  the  salvation  of  Greece. 

Circumstances  had  combined  to  give  a  long  respite 
to  the  Greeks.  Nearly  ten  years  had  passed  since  the 
day  of  Marathon,  and  the  storm  of  Persian  vengeance 
had  not  yet  broken.  Darius  had  been  called  away 
when  his  preparations  were  almost  complete,  by  the 
revolt  of  Egypt;  and  his  death  had  followed,  at  a 
very  short  interval,  the  reduction  of  Egypt.  But 
his  son  and  successor  had  no  idea  of  abandoning  the 
scheme.  Indeed,  he  was  collecting  from  every  part 
of  his  vast  Empire  a  force  so  vast  that  the  mere 
report  of  it  would  suffice,  he  thought,  to  banish  all 
idea  of  resistance.  This  enormous  host,  gathered 
from  evei-y  tribe  between  the  Indus  and  the  Bospho- 
rus,  was  already  on  its  march  westward.  In  the 
Greek  cities  there  was  no  unity  of  purpose.  Some 
openly  declared  their  intention  to  submit  to  the  bar- 
barians; others,  with  a  selfishness  only  equalled  by 
their  folly,  dreamt  of  saving  their  strength  for  the 
defence  of  their  own  walls.  It  was  only  a  minority 
that  had  any  idea  of  a  combined  resistance  of  the 
common  foe,  and  even  in  these  there  was  a  feeling 
of  terror  which  approached  almost  to  despair. 

The  Athenians,  feeling  that  they  would  be  the 
first  objects  of  attack,  asked  the  Delphian  oracle 
what  they  should  do.  Apollo's  answer  was  by  no 
means  encouraging.    The  envoys  had  scarcely  taken 


54  THE   WOODEN    WALLS. 

their  seats   within   the  precinct  when  the  priestess 
broke  forth  into  a  strain  of  awful  warning. 

'  Unhappj  men  why  do  je  tarry?    Fly,  fly  to  the  borders  of 

earth. 
From  where  round  your  towering  stronghold  lies  wheel- 
like the  town  of  your  birth! 
For  the  head  and  the  body  are  sick,  and  the  feet  are 

all  weary  and  spent, 
And  their  cunning  is  gone  from  the  hands,  and  the  loins 

are  all  feeble  and  bent. 
They  are  perished  already,  so  fiercely  the  flame  runneth 

on  to  destroy, 
Whfle,  driving  his  Syrian  chariot,  the  terrible  Master,  whose 

joy 
It  in  battle  and  death,  cometh  nearer.    Nor  think  these 

will  suffer  alone; 
Full  many  a  wall  shall  be  levelled;  not  a  stone  shall  be 

left  on  a  stone! 
And  the  flame  that  devours  shall  encircle  full  many  a 

high-pillared  fane; 
Alas!  for  their  dwellers  immortal,  who  tremble  and  sweat 

in  the  pain 
Of  the  mastering  dread  that  is  on  them,  for  even  to-day 

do  they  see 
The  blood  dripping  down  from  the  roof-tops,  dread  token 

of  doom  that  shall  be; 
Qt  and  harden  thy  heart  to  the  trouble  that  comes,  is 

my  counsel  to  thee!" 

The  terror  inspired  by  these  words  in  the  hearts 
of  the  envoys  was  indescribable.  Then  came  a  sug- 
gestion of  comfort.     One  of  the  most  notable  citizens 


THE   WOODEN    WALLS.  5S 

of  Delphi  counselled  them  not  to  be  content  with 
so  hopeless  an  answer.  Let  them,  he  said,  approach 
the  god  again,  not  as  enquirers,  but  as  suppliants, 
and  see  whether  they  could  not  wring  from  him  some 
more  encouraging  reply. 

It  was  commonly  said  that  the  Delphian  god 
•medized,"  i,e,  took  the  Persian  side  in  the  great 
struggle  of  Greece  for  freedom.  And  it  is  beyond 
doubt  that  the  council  of  priests  which  dictated  the 
answers  of  the  oracle  shared  the  common  belief  that 
the  Persian  arms  were  irresistible.  Their  great 
object  was  to  secure  the  reputation  of  their  god  as 
a  predicter  of  the  truth,  and  they  put  into  his  mouth 
.a  forecast  that  seemed  to  them  almost  certainly 
true.  At  the  same  time  they  were  not  inaccessible 
to  other  influences,  and  these,  we  may  be  sure, 
Themistocles  did  not  fail  to  use.  So  far  the  oracle 
had  said  exactly  what  he  wished.  Men  reduced  to 
despair,  as  they  had  been,  would  listen  eagerly  to 
any  suggestion  of  hope,  and  this  was  now  given 
them,  and  exactly  in  the  direction  in  which  the  great 
statesman  had  been  working  for  years. 

Bearing  the  tokens  of  supplication  *  in  their  hands 
the  envoys  entered  the  shrine  again  :  *  Lord  Apollo, " 
they  said,  *have  regard  to  these  tokens,  and  give 
us  some  better  answer  about  our  fatherland;  verily 
we   will  not  depart  otherwise  from  thy  temple,  but 

*  Olive  boughs  wreathed  round  with  white  wooL 


56  THE    WOODEN    WALLS. 

will  stay  here  till  we  die."  Thereupon  the  priestess 
delivered  a  second  oracle.  "Pallas,"  she  said,  "had 
vainly  endeavoured  to  sway  the  heart  of  Zeus  and 
save  her  city ;  but  she  had  wrung  from  him  one  thing. 

•When  all  things  else  shall  perish  that  are  found  in 

King  Cecrops*  land, 
Then  alone  unhurt  of  the  foeman  the  walls  that  are 

wooden  shall  stand, 
The  safety  of  thee  and  thy  children.     But  do  not  thou 

think  to  abide 
The  host  of  the  footmen  and  horsemen  as  it  pours  like 

an  incoming  tide 
O'er  the  land  of  thy  birth,  but  depart;  yet  know  that 

there  cometh  a  day, 
When  those  from  whom  thou  art  flying  thou  shalt  meet 

in  the  battle  array, 
And  Salamis,  Island  Divine,  many  children  of  women 

shall  slay." 

Here  certainly  we  can  see  the  hand  of  Themistocles. 
The  whole  scheme  of  his  policy  is  wrapped  up  in 
these  words.  The  Athenians  were  to  relinquish  all 
idea  of  resisting  the  Persian  advance  by  land;  they 
were  to  abandon  their  city — what  an  audacious 
proposal,  one  thinks,  for  a  statesman  to  make  to  his 
countrymen! — they  were  to  trust  to  their  ships,  and 
to  make  their  stand  on  the  very  place  which  the 
extraordinary  genius  of  the  man  had  discerned  as 
the  most  favourable  place  for  it. 

Something,  indeed,  still  remained  to  be  done.     The 


THE    WOODEN    WALLS.  57 

oracle  had  been  obtained;  it  had  now  to  be  interpreted 
in  the  sense  which  Themistocles  desired.  There  were 
some  who  maintained  that  the  "  wooden  walls '  was 
the  ancient  palisading  that  surrounded  the  Acropolis  or 
citadel  of  Athens,  and  thus  it  was  in  the  Acropolis  that 
the  last  stand  was  to  be  made.  When  this  opinion  was 
overruled,  there  remained  what  seemed  a  gloomy  prog- 
nostic how  "  Salamis  should  slay  many  sons  of  women. " 
Might  not  this  be  a  prophecy  that  Athens,  risking 
her  all  upon  her  ships,  should  suffer  defeat?  At  this 
point  Themistocles  himself  intervened.  "  Not  so, "  he 
suggested,  "  if  the  god  had  meant  to  prophesy  disaster 
he  would  not  have  spoken  of  Salamis  as  'divine' 
but  'wretched'  or  'unhappy.'*  The  argument  was 
convincing;  and  the  plan  of  action  was  determined 
upon.  The  Athenians  were  to  concentrate  their  whole 
fighting  force  in  their  fleet ;  they  were  to  make  their 
stand  behind  their  "wooden  walls." 

The  earlier  events  which  followed  the  arrival  of 
the  Persian  host  may  be  very  briefly  summarized. 
The  first  line  of  defence  was  forced.  The  army 
that  garrisoned  the  pass  of  Thermopylae  was 
compelled  to  retreat,  leaving  behind  to  a  glorious 
death  the  famous  Three  Hundred  from  Sparta, 
and  another  Seven  Hundred  from  the  Boeotian 
Thespiae,    less    famous    but   not   less    noble.  *     The 

*  The  men  of  Thespiae  have  strangely  missed  the  full  credit 
which  belongs  to  them  for  their  devotion,  a  devotion  still  more 


58  THE    WOODEN    WALLS. 

fleet  at  Artemisiiim  in  Euboea,  which  had  been  intended 
to  arrest  the  southward  advance  of  the  Persian 
ships,  after  winning  two  victories  at  consider- 
able cost,  had  also  fallen  back.  Themistocles,  who 
was  in  command  of  the  Athenian  contingent,  which 
numbered  one  hundred  and  eighty  ships  out  of  a  total 
of  about  three  hundred  and  seventy,  induced  the  Greeks 
to  make  a  halt  at  Salamis.  It  was  a  request  which 
could  not  be  refused,  for  the  Athenians  had  resolved 
to  abandon  their  city  and  absolutely  wanted  their 
squadron  for  the  removal  of  the  non-combatants  and 
of  so  much  of  their  property  as  it  was  possible  to 
save.  But  the  difficulty  was  to  keep  the  fleet  there. 
The  contingents  from  the  Peloponnesus — and  a  Pelo- 
ponnesian,  the  Spartan  Eurybiades,  was  in  supreme 
command — were  selfishly  bent  on  defending  their  own 
country.  A  wall  was  being  built  across  the  Isthmus 
with  all  possible  speed ;  this,  it  was  hoped,  would  stop 
the  Persian  advance  by  land  ;  how  the  hostile  fleet  was 
to  be  dealt  with  they  do  not  appear  to  have  considered. 
Themistocles,  on  the  other  hand,  felt  that  their  departure 
would  be  the  ruin  of  Greece.     The  fleet  would  inevit- 

remarkable  than  that  of  their  Spartan  comrades.  These  latter 
were  bound  bj  the  strongest  tradition  of  military  honour;  the 
Thespians  were  under  no  such  obligation.  Professor  Rawlinson 
thinks  that  they  may  have  been  nerved  by  the  hope  of  Thespiae 
becoming  the  head  of  the  Boeotian  confederacy.  Thespiae  may 
have   cherished    such  an  ambition  :  but  the  self-sacrifice  of  the 


THE   WOODEN   WALLS.  59 

ably  break  up,  each  squadron  hurrying  home  to  the 
defence  of  its  own  coast.  Accordingly,  he  spared  no 
efforts  to  prevent  a  step  so  disastrous.  When  other 
arguments  failed,  he  had  to  recourse  to  a  threat. 
•Stay  here,'  he  said  to  the  Spartan  admiral,  "and 
you  will  be  playing  the  part  of  a  brave  man,  and 
will  save  Greece.  But  if  you  are  determined  to  go, 
then  know  what  we  shall  do.  We  will  put  our  families 
on  board,  and  go  just  as  we  are  to  Siris  in  Italy; 
that  place  is  ours,  and  it  has  been  prophesied  that 
some  day  we  shall  colonize  it.  As  for  you,  you  will 
find  out  before  long  what  it  means  to  have  lost  such 
allies  as  we  are.' 

Eurybiades  could  not  resist  this  argument.  He 
was  perfectly  aware  that  without  the  Athenians  the 
Greek  fleet  was  helpless,  and  he  gave  the  order  to 
remain.  This  was  received  with  apparent  obedience, 
but  the  discontent  among  the  Peloponnesian  allies 
was  great.  And  when  the  danger  drew  nearer,  when 
the  army  of  the  Persians  was  known  to  be  marching 
towards  the  Isthmus,  where  the  wall  was  scarcely 
finished,  their  fear  got  beyond  all  control.  Another 
council  of  the  admirals  was  held ;  a  fierce  debate 
followed,  but  it  was  evident  to  the  Athenian  commander 
that  the  vote  would  be  against  him,  and  that 
Salamis  would  be  abandoned. 

particular  soldiers,  who  were  perfectly  well  aware  that  they  were 

staying  behind  to  meet  a  certain  death,  is  not  less  remarkable. 


60  THE   WOODEN    WALLS. 

The  peril  was  imminent.  The  safety  of  Greece 
and  his  own  personal  fortunes — which  for  all  his 
patriotism  he  never  forgot — were  at  stake.  Under 
these  circumstances  he  took  a  desperate  resolution, 
venturing  on  an  act  which  only  success,  and  scarcely 
success  itself,  could  justify.  He  sent  to  the  Persian 
king  hy  a  trusted  slave  of  his  own,  Sicinnus  by 
name,  a  message  which  was  to  have  the  effect  of 
compelling  the  Greeks  to  remain  where  they  were. 
It  ran  thus:  "The  Athenian  commander  sends  you 
this  without  the  knowledge  of  his  allies.  He  wishes 
you  well,  and  would  gladly  see  you  victorious  rather 
than  his  countrymen.  Know,  therefore,  that  they 
are  overpowered  by  fear  and  are  meditating  flight. 
You  can  therefore  now  accomplish  the  best  work  that 
you  ever  did,  if  you  will  hinder  their  escape." 

Xerxes,  apparently  without  any  suspicion  that  this 
advice  was  not  sincere,  acted  on  the  suggestion,  and, 
moving  the  western  wing  of  his  fleet,  cut  off  the 
retreat  of  the  Greeks. 

Themistocles  first  heard  of  the  success  of  his  advice 
from  a  political  enemy.  Aristides,  the  leader  of  the 
aristocratic  party  at  Athens,  had  been  banished  at 
the  instance  of  his  great  rival.  But  this  was  a  time 
when  all  such  feuds  are  forgotten.  Aristides  came 
to  the  Spartan  admiral's  ship,  where  the  council  was 
being  held,  and  standing  outside  called  for  Themis- 
tocles, who  at  once  came  out  to  speak  to  him.     **  It 


THE    WOODEN    WALLS.  61 

matters  not,*  said  the  new-comer,  *  whether  there  be 
much  talk  or  little  about  the  departure  of  the  Pelopon- 
nesians  from  this  place.  Depart  they  cannot,  however 
much  they  may  wish  it.  The  Persians  enclose  us  on 
every  side.  This  I  have  seen  with  my  own  eyes. 
Go  and  tell  the  news  to  the  council." 

"You  bring  good  news,"  replied  Themistocles 
"  But  you  must  know  that  this  is  of  my  devising. 
Our  allies  would  not  fight  here  of  their  own  free 
will,  and  it  was  necessary  to  make  them  do  so, 
whether  they  would  or  no.  Do  you  now  go  in  and 
tell  them.  You  they  will  believe,  while  they  will 
think  that  I  am  telling  them  a  feigned  tale." 

Aristides  accordingly  entered  the  council.  *  I  have 
come,"  he  said,  *  from  JSgina,  having  with  difficulty 
escaped  the  blockading  ships.  You  are  entirely  en- 
closed by  the  enemy.     Make  ready  therefore  to  fight." 

Many  of  the  captains  still  doubted,  when  a  new 
arrival  put  the  matter  beyond  all  question.  A  Tenian 
ship — Tenos  was  a  little  island  in  the  JEgean — which 
had  deserted  from  the  Persians,  came  with  full  intel- 
ligence.' The  Greeks  had  to  make  a  virtue  of  neces- 
sity* and  prepared  for  battle. 

At  dawn  of  day  Themistocles— the  Athenian  gift 
of  oratory  was  even  then,  it  would  seem,  acknow- 
ledged—addressed the  assembled  men-at-arms  from 
the  fleet.  These  were  soldiers  who  served  on  board 
the  ships,  fulfilling  much  the  same  functions  as  our 


62  THE   WOODEN    WALLS. 

marines.  Plutarch  tells  us  that  there  were  eigh- 
teen in  each  ship,  so  that  the  total  number  would 
amount  to  something  less  than  seven  thousand. 

The  speech  finished,  the  men-at-arms  embarked 
again,  and  the  fleet  put  out  from  land.  The  Persian 
ships  advanced  to  engage  it,  and  with  an  aspect  so 
formidable,  it  would  seem,  that  the  Greeks  began  to 
back  water.  They  had  almost  touched  the  land,  when 
some  captain,  with  more  presence  of  mind  than  his 
companions,  set  a  bolder  example.  Who  this  was  was 
much  debated  in  after  days.  Some  gave  the  credit 
to  Ameinias  an  Athenian,  and,  according  to  Plutarch, 
a  brother  of  the  poet  iEschylus.*  The  iEginetans 
claimed  it  for  themselves.  The  ship  that  fetched  those 
supernatural  allies,  the  heroes  of  the  house  of  ^acus, 
was  the  first,  they  said,  to  show  a  courage  worthy 
of  this  mission,  f  Among  the  other  Greeks  a  legend 
grew  up  that  the  figure  of  a  woman  was  seen  to 
hover  in  the  air,  crying  in  a  voice  that  was  heard 
from  end  to  end  of  the  fleet:  "How  long,  ye  foolish 
ones,  are  ye  going  to  back  water?  " 

•  Another  brother  had  behaved  with  the  greatest  gallantry 
at  the  battle  of  Marathon. 

t  Some  days  before,  when  the  resolution  to  fight  had  been 
first  taken,  an  i?^]ginetan  ship  had  been  sent  to  fetch  the 
images  of  the  heroes  of  this  house  from  their  temples  in  iEgina. 
Telamon  and  Ajax  his  son  were  already  at  Salamis;  iGacus,  the 
progenitor  of  the  house,  with  his  sons  Peleus  and  Phocus  and 
his  grandson  Achilles,  were  fetched  from  ^gina. 


THE   WOODEN    WALLS.  63 

The  details  of  the  battle  that  history  has  preserved 
are  not  particularly  clear;  but  it  is  beyond  doubt 
that  the  Athenians  contributed  far  more  than  their 
allies  to  the  victory.  They  were  matched  against  the 
most  formidable  part  of  the  Persian  fleet — at  least  as  far 
as  nautical  skill  was  concerned — the  Phoenician  ships, 
and  inflicted  on  them  a  heavy  loss.  Next  to  them, 
(in  the  judgment  of  some,  above  them)  ranked  the 
men  of  ^E^'ina.  And,  indeed,  considering  the  small- 
ness  of  the  iGginetan  squadron— only  thirty  ships- 
it  did  more  conspicuous  service.  They  were  especi- 
ally active  in  cutting  off  the  ships  that  attempted  to 
escape  from  the  battle.  Probably  they  could  boast 
a  greater  number  of  captives  than  any  of  the  allies. 
Herodotus  bears  express  testimony  to  the  good 
order  of  the  two  squadrons,  old  enemies,  it  will  be 
remembered,  who  had  gained  their  knowledge  through 
many  bitter  years  of  mutual  loss,  and  now  turned 
it  against  the  common  foe.  These,  we  learn  from 
the  same  source,  did  not  yield  without  a  struggle. 
"The  Persians,"  he  says,  "surpassed  themselves." 
They  were  fighting  under  the  eye  of  the  King  him- 
self, whose  throne  had  been  set  up  on  a  hill  on  the 
mainland,  that  immediately  overlooked  the  scene  of 
action,  and  whose  scribes  noted  down  for  reward,  or 
punishment  the  names  of  the  captains  who  seemed 
to  be  doing  conspicuously  well  or  ill.  None  in  the 
Persian    fleet   did   better  than   the   Greeks  from  tlie 


64  THE    WOODEN    WALLS. 

maritime  cities  of  A.sia  Minor  and  the  islands  that 
had  submitted  to  the  king.  They  were  opposed  to 
the  Peloponnesian  contingent  and  did  them  much 
damage.  A  ship  from  Samothrace  is  specially  men- 
tioned for  the  success  with  which  it  was  managed.  It 
had  sunk  an  Athenian  vessel,  and  was  in  its  turn 
attacked  and  crippled  by  an  iEginetan.  But  its  crew, 
who  happened  to  be  particularly  expert  in  the  use 
of  the  javelin,  cleared  the  deck  of  the  assailant,  and 
then  boarded  and  captured  it.  Xerxes  was  particu- 
larly struck  with  this  deed,  and  conceived  from  it  a 
very  high  opinion  of  the  skill,  the  valour,  and  the 
fidelity  of  his  Greek  subjects.  A  less  creditable  ex- 
ploit performed  by  Artemisia,  Queen  of  Halicarnassus, 
a  Greek  city  which  had  fallen  under  Carian  sway, 
also  attracted  his  favourable  notice.  She  was  being 
closely  pursued  by  an  Athenian  trireme.  Not  seeing 
any  hope  of  escape,  she  ordered  her  ship  to  be 
steered  against  another  Carian  vessel,  fighting  like 
herself  on  the  Persian  side.  This  she  sent  to  the 
bottom  with  all  on  board.  The  Athenian  pursuer, 
making  sure  that  he  had  been  chasing  either  one  of 
his  own  side,  or  a  deserter  from  the  Persians,  aban- 
doned the  pursuit,  and  the  Queen  was  able  to  get 
clear  away  from  the  battle.  Xerxes  saw  what  was 
done,  and  enquired  the  name  of  the  successful  com- 
batant. His  attendants  were  sure  that  the  victorious 
ship  was  Artemisia's,  for  they  recognized  her  ensign. 


THE  WOODEN  WJLLL8.  65 

but  it  occurred  to  none  to  doubt  that  her  antagonist 
was  a  Greek.  *  My  men  bear  themselves  like 
women,  my  women  like  men/  was  the  king's 
comment. 

Whatever  successes  may  have  been  won  by  indi- 
vidual ships  in  the  Persian  fleet,  the  result  on  the 
whole  was  a  disastrous  defeat.  As  a  fleet  it  had 
almost  ceased  to  exist.  The  loss  in  ships  and  men 
was  enormous,  all  the  greater  because  very  few  of 
the  crews  were  able  to  swim.  The  victory  was  com- 
pleted by  the  destruction  of  the  force  which  had 
been  landed  on  the  little  island  of  Psittaleia,  lying 
between  Salamis  and  the  coast  of  Athens.  It  had 
been  intended  that  these  troops  should  help  any  of 
their  own  men  and  kill  any  of  the  Greeks  who  might 
drift  thither  in  disabled  ships.  Aristides  landed  some 
heavy-armed  Athenian  troops  on  the  island,  and 
slew  its  occupants  to  a  man.  None  of  the  disasters 
of  the  day  affected  Xerxes  more  profoundly.  Many 
Persian  nobles,  among  them  three  nephews  of  his 
own,  perished  at  that  fatal  spot. 

Athens  had  saved  herself  and  Greece  by  hei 
'^wooden  walla,* 


CHAPTER  VIL 

BOW  AGAINST  SPEAB. 

THE  disastrous  defeat  in  the  Bay  of  Salamis  did  not 
put  an  end  to  the  Persian  hopes  of  success.  The 
king  indeed  was  bent  on  returning  home.  With  this 
wish  the  advice  of  his  most  influential  counsellors 
coincided.  Queen  Artemisia,  anxious  herself  to  be 
relieved  from  further  service,  urged  him  to  depart, 
and  she  was  supported  by  Mardonius,  the  King's 
uncle.  This  man  had  always  been  the  most  vehement 
advocate  of  the  war;  he  felt  himself  responsible  for 
its  disasters;  his  only  chance  of  safety  for  himself 
was  to  remain  behind  and  make  another  effort  to 
conquer  Greece.  Xerxes  was  to  fly  and  so  preserve 
his  invaluable  life  for  the  country;  he,  Mardonius, 
would  accomplish  the  end  for  which  the  forces  of  the 
empire  had  been  gathered. 

Three  hundred  thousand  men,  the  picked  troops  of 
the  army,  Persians,  Medes,  Sacae,  Bactrians,  and 
Indians,  were  left  with  Mardonius.     They  passed  the 


BOW   AGAINST   SPEAB.  67 

winter  in  the  friendly  country  of  Thessaly.  Before 
he  moved  his  troops  in  the  spring,  the  Persian  general 
consulted  the  oracles  of  Northern  Greece.  What 
answers  he  received  is  not  known.  And  he  attempted 
to  win  over  the  power  which  had  hitherto  thwarted 
his  master's  purposes.  A  friendly  prince,  Alexander, 
king  of  Macedonia,  was  sent  to  offer  terms  to  Athens. 
The  proposal  was  met  with  a  dignified  refusal.  *  So 
long  as  the  sun  shall  move  in  his  accustomed  way, 
so  long  will  we  stand  against  Xerxes,"  was  the  reply 
of  the  Athenian  statesmen.  The  messenger  was 
warned  not  to  come  again  on  the  same  errand. 
"  Tempt  us  not  to  unfriendly  acts ;  thou  art  a  friend 
and  guest;  we  would  not  willingly  harm  thee.* 

Sparta,  aware  of  what  Mardonius  was  doing,  sent 
envoys  to  urge  their  allies  to  be  steadfast  in  the 
cause  of  Greece.  The  reply  was,  that  they  need  not 
fear;  so  long  as  there  was  an  Athenian  alive,  no 
truce  would  be  made  with  Xerxes.  At  the  same 
time  an  earnest  request  was  made  that  an  army 
from  the  Peloponnesus  should  march  in  the  early  spring 
into  Boeotia,  and  save  Athens  from  a  second  de- 
struction. Whether  this  help  was  promised,  we  are 
not  told;  it  was  certainly  not  given.  With  charac- 
teristic selfishness,  the  Peloponnesians,  once  assured 
that  Athens  would  remain  faithful,  thought  of  nothing 
but  their  own  safety,  and  laboured  to  complete  the 
tortifications  of  the  Isthmug. 


68  BOW   AGAINST    SPEAR. 

It  was  lafce  in  the  spring — May  or,  possibly,  June— 
before  Mardonius  left  his  quarters  in  Thessaly,  and 
marched  into  Boeotia.  The  Athenians  again  left  their 
city,  and  the  Persian  general  fixed  his  head- quarters 
in  the  Acropolis.  He  made  a  fresh  attempt  to  win 
over  these  obstinate  foes.  The  envoy  met  with  a 
firm  refusal.  He  was  allowed  to  depart  unhurt,  but 
a  senator,  who  ventured  to  suggest  a  consideration 
of  the  proposal,  was  stoned  to  death  by  his  col- 
leagues and  the  people,  his  wife  and  children  meeting 
with  the  same  fate  at  the  hands  of  the  Athenian 
women. 

Another  urgent  demand  for  help  was  now  addressed 
to  Sparta.  The  Ephors  *  continued  to  procrastinate, 
even  in  the  face  of  the  threat  that  Athens,  if  per- 
sistently deserted,  must  make  terms  for  itself.  For 
ten  days  an  answer  was  postponed.  On  the  eleventh 
the  envoys  presented  a  peremptory  ultimatum,  *  Help 
us,  or  we  secure  our  own  safety."  The  Ephors 
replied,  *An  army  is  already  on  its  march,  and  is 
even  now  beyond  our  borders.  *  This  statement  they 
confirmed  with  an  oath.  And,  indeed,  their  fears  had 
at  last  been  roused.  An  influential  citizen  of  the 
Arcadian  town  of  Tegea  had  warned  them  that  the 
Isthmian  wall  would  be  useless  if  Athens  was  to  put 
her   fleet   at   the    service   of  the  invader.     Then   a 

•  The  actual  rulers  of  Sparta :  the  kings  were  little  more  than 
commanders-in-chief. 


BOW    AGAINST    SPEAR.  69 

sudden  resolution  was  taken,  and  an  effort  not 
unworthy  of  the  occasion  was  made,  and  made  with 
astonishing  speed.  Sparta,  always  like  a  camp,  wai 
now,  it  is  probable,  prepared  for  instant  action.  An 
army  of  five  thousand  Spartans,  each  attended  by 
seven  armed  Helots,  and  an  equal  number  of  Perioeci,* 
each  with  one  Helot,  were  actually  on  their  march 
northward  while  the  Ephors  were  speaking. 

The  Argives,  always  jealous  rivals  of  Sparta,  had 
promised  Mardonius  to  arrest  the  march  of  their 
neighbours  whenever  it  should  take  place.  But  this 
imposing  force  overawed  them— and,  indeed,  never  before 
or  after  was  such  an  army  brought  together  by  the 
state.  All  that  the  Argives  could  do  was  to  despatch 
their  swiftest  runner  to  the  Persian  general  with  tidings 
of  what  had  happened.  Mardonius  evacuated  Athens, 
not  forgetting  to  complete  the  work  of  destruction 
before  he  departed,  marched  through  the  passes  of 
Mount  Parnes,  and  took  up  his  position  on  the  left 
bank  of  the  river  Asopus.  On  the  other  side  of  the 
stream  he  constructed  a  fortified  camp  of  more  than 
a  square  mile  in  extent.  Behind  this  again  he  had 
a  place  of  refuge  in  the  strongly-fortified  city  of 
Thebes.  To  all  appearance  the  chances  of  war  were 
strongly  in  his  favour.  His  army  numbered  more 
than  three  hundred  thousand  men,  various  contingents 

•  The  Perioeci  were  of  the  subject  race,  but  free,  and  wert 
eommonly  engaged  in  agriculture. 


70  BOW  AGAINST   SPEAB. 

from  Macedonia  and  northern  tribes  having  joined  it 
in  the  course  of  the  winter.  Still  the  general  feeling 
was  anything  but  sanguine. 

Herodotus  illustrates  this  by  a  curious  story  which 
he  heard,  he  declares,  from  an  eye-witness,  Menan- 
der  of  Orchomenus.  It  runs  thus :  The  chief  magis- 
trate of  Thebes  invited  to  a  great  banquet  fifty  of 
the  principal  citizens  together  with  fifty  officers  of 
the  army,  so  disposing  his  guests  that  each  couch 
accommodated  a  Persian  and  a  Greek.  *  My  neigh- 
bour," said  Menander,  "  said  to  me,  *  Since  you  have 
eaten  at  the  same  table  and  drunk  of  the  same  cup, 
hear  the  thing  of  which  I  am  persuaded  in  my  own 
mind  ;  so  you  may  best  save  yourself.  See  you  these 
Persians  that  feast  here,  and  the  army  which  we 
left  by  the  river?  Out  of  them  all  in  but  a  few 
days  there  shall  survive  but  a  very  few ! '  This  he 
spake  with  tears.  Then  I :  '  Why  tell  you  it  not  to 
Mardonius?'  He  replied:  'What  God  hath  decreed 
none  can  avert.  As  for  what  I  have  said,  no  man 
will  believe  it.  Verily  of  all  things  the  most  hateful 
is  to  know,  and  therewithal  to  have  no  power  of 
doing  aught !  *  * 

Meanwhile  the  Greek  army  was  gathering  its 
strength.  The  force  from  Laconia  numbered  fifty 
thousand  (ton  thousand  heavy-armed,  and  forty  thou- 
sand light-armed).  From  the  rest  of  the  Peloponnese 
came    about   fourteen   thousand,  the  most  numerous 


BOW   AGAINST    SPEAB.  71 

contingeDt  being  the  Corinthian,  in  which  there  were 
five  thousand  heavy-armed ;  Megara  sent  three  thousand, 
and  the  Athenian  heavy-armed  numbered  eight  thousand. 
The  total  force  was  nearly  one  hundred  and  ten  thou- 
sand,* and  it  was  under  the  command  of  the  Spartan 
Pausanias.  Crossing  the  ridge  of  the  Cithaeron,  the 
Greeks  came  in  view  of  the  Persians,  who  were  drawn 
up  on  the  plain  below.  So  formidable  an  appearance  did 
the  enemy  present  that  Pausanias  kept  his  army  on  the 
higher  ground.  Mardonius  immediately  assumed  the 
offensive,  sending  his  cavalry  under  Masistius  to 
harass  their  movements.  In  cavalry  the  Greek  army 
was  absolutely  deficient,  nor  could  their  archers 
contend  on  equal  terms  with  the  Persian  bowmen. 
The  Megarian  contingent  was  particularly  hard 
pressed,  nor  would  any  of  the  Greeks  volunteer  to 
go  to  their  help.  At  last  three  hundred  Athenians 
came  forward  and  took  up  the  task.  The  skirmish 
was  decided  by  the  fate  of  the  Persian  leader, 
Masistius.  As  he  was  charging  at  the  head  of  his 
troop,    his   horse    was    struck    by  an  arrow,  reared, 

*  The  Spartan  numbers  were  so  great  as  to  show  that  every 
available  man  was  sent  into  the  field.  Sparta  and  Messenia 
together  contained  an  area  of  two  thousand  seven  hundi  ed  and 
seventy-one  square  miles  (I  take  the  modern  divisions  as  gene- 
rally corresponding  to  the  ancient)  and  the  population  must  have 
fallen  short  of  the  half  million,  which  is  the  number  proportionate 
to  fifty  thousand  able-bodied  soldiers.  The  modem  population 
is  under  three  hundred  thousand. 


72  BOW   AGAINST   SPEAB. 

and  threw  him  to  the  ground.  Before  he  could  rise 
the  Athenians  had  rushed  forward  and  seized  him. 
Even  then  it  was  not  easy  to  kill  him,  so  impene- 
trable was  his  armour.  At  last  an  Athenian  spear 
was  driven  into  one  of  his  eyes.  A  fierce  struggle 
for  his  body  followed  it.  The  Persians  recovered  it 
for  a  time;  then  they  lost  it  again.  Finally  it 
remained  in  Greek  hands.  There  it  was  an  object 
of  the  most  lively  curiosity,  so  splendid  was  the 
armour  in  which  it  was  clad,  so  handsome  the  face, 
and  so  magnificent  the  proportions  of  the  dead  man. 
In  the  Persian  camp  the  loss  of  so  renowned  a 
leader  caused  the  deepest  grief.  *  The  wailing  for 
the  dead  could  be  heard,"  says  the  historian, 
■  throughout  the  land  of  Boeotia." 

This  success  encouraged  Pausanias  to  leave  the 
high  ground,  and  to  take  up  his  position  on  the 
plain.  The  line  was  arranged  according  to  the  tra- 
ditional order  of  precedence.  The  most  honourable 
post,  the  right  wing,  was  assigned,  as  a  matter  of 
course,  to  the  Spartans;  for  the  second  in  dignity, 
the  left,  there  was  a  contest  between  Athens  and 
Tegea.  The  Spartans,  acting  as  arbiters,  adjudged 
it  to  Athens.  The  remainder  of  the  Greek  forces 
occupied  the  centre,  the  Tegeans  being  next  to  the 
Spartans,  and  the  Corinthians  next  again  to  them. 

The  new  Greek  position  was  by  no  means  conve- 
nient.   The  whole  army  had  to  draw  its  supplies  of 


BOW  AGAINST   SPEAB.  73 

water  from  a  single  spring  near  the  right  wing,  for 
the  Persian  slingers  and  archers  hindered  access  to 
the  river  Asopus.  At  the  same  time  the  Persian 
cavahy  cut  off  the  convoys  that  brought  supplies  from 
the  Peloponnesus,  while  the  sooth-sayers  declared  that 
the  omens  were  unfavourable  to  a  forward  movement. 
What  would  have  been  the  result  if  Mardonius 
had  followed  the  policy  of  delay,  urged  upon  him 
by  his  Theban  allies,  while  he  continued  to  use  his 
superiority  in  cavalry  to  annoy  his  adversaries,  it  is 
impossible  to  say.  Happily  his  impatience  was  too 
strong  for  him,  and  he  determined  to  attack. 
Alexander  of  Macedon,  anxious  to  secure  friends  on 
both  sides,  warned  the  Greeks  of  what  was  to  happen, 
and  Pausanias,  in  view  of  it,  proposed  to  the  Athen- 
ians that  they  should  change  places  with  the 
Spartan  troops.  As  the  two  armies  were  now  arranged, 
the  Spartans  faced  the  Persians,  the  Athenians 
the  Greek  allies  of  Xerxes.  This  Pausanias  proposed 
to  change.  *  We,  *  he  said  to  the  Athenians,  "  have 
never  had  to  do  with  the  Persian  troops,  whereas 
you  conquered  them  at  Marathon.  Do  you  therefore 
take  our  place,  and  we  will  deal  with  the  hostile 
Greeks,  adversaries  to  whom  we  are  accustomed.* 
The  proposal  was  accepted,  and  the  movement  was 
begun.  It  did  not,  however,  escape  the  notice  of 
Mardonius,  and  as  he  made  a  corresponding  change 
in  his  own  line,  the  old  order  was  resumed. 


74  BOW   AGAINST    8PEAB. 

Meanwhile  the  second  position  became  untenable. 
The  Persian  skirmishers  made  even  the  single  spring 
on  which  the  army  depended  impossible  of  access, 
and  it  became  necessary  to  move.  It  was  resolved 
to  take  up  a  third  position  on  a  so-called  *  island " 
made  by  two  branches  of  the  Oeroe,  a  small  stream 
that  ran  westward  into  the  Corinthian  Gulf.  Diffi- 
culties and  disagreements  that  might  easily  have 
ended  in  disaster  arose  when  the  time  came  for 
executing  this  movement.  The  Greeks  of  the  centre, 
distressed  and  alarmed  by  the  incessant  attacks  of 
the  Persian  cavalry,  which  had  become  bolder  since 
the  manoeuvre  attempted  by  the  Spartans,  disobeyed 
orders,  and  marched,  not  to  the  island,  but  to  the 
town  of  Platsea,  where  they  found  a  safer  position. 
Disobedience  of  another  kind  hampered  the  Spartans ; 
the  leader  of  one  of  the  divisions  flatly  refused  to 
move.  *  You  are  flying  from  the  enemy,"  he  said, 
*  and  this  is  a  thing  that  the  true  Spartan  can  never 
do."  Threats  and  persuasions  were  lost  upon  him; 
go  he  would  not,  not  even  if  he  and  his  division 
were  left  to  fight  the  barbarians  alone.  At  daybreak, 
while  the  dispute  was  still  raging,  an  Athenian 
messenger  rode  up  to  ask  whether  the  Spartans 
intended  to  carry  out  the  proposed  plan.  Pausanias 
pointed  to  the  refractory  captain  as  the  cause  of  the 
delay,  and  bade  the  messenger  carry  back  to  his  chief 
the    story    of    the    untimely    obstinacy    which   was 


BOW    AGAINST    SPEAB.  75 

endangering  the  common  safety.  Amompharetus — 
this  was  the  dissentient  captain's  name — still  refused 
to  yield.  Taking  up  a  small  boulder  from  the  ground 
he  cast  it  down  at  the  feet  of  Pausanias  with  the 
words,  "I  give  my  vote*  for  staying  here."  At 
last  Pausanias  made  up  his  mind  to  move,  leaving 
the  obstinate  officer  to  act  as  he  pleased.  He  had 
not  been  gone  long  before  Amompharetus  followed  him. 

But  valuable  time  had  been  lost,  while  the  hopes 
of  the  Persians,  who  fancied  that  the  Greeks  had 
lost  courage,  rose  high.  They  followed  the  seemingly 
retreating  Spartans  in  hot  haste,  and  overtook  them 
just  as  they  were  joined  by  the  division  of  Amom- 
pharetus. So  hot  was  the  attack  that  Pausanias  sent 
messengers  to  the  Athenians,  asking  for  help.  But 
these  were  by  this  time  engaged  with  the  Greek 
allies  of  Xerxes,  and  could  for  the  present  do  no 
more  than  hold  their  own. 

For  a  time  the  battle  seemed  to  go  against  the 
Spartans  and  Tegeans;  these  latter,  alone  of  all  the 
Greeks  of  the  centre,  had  kept  their  place.  The  Per- 
sians made  a  breastwork  of  their  wicker  shields,  and 
poured  from  behind  it  an  incessant  stream  of  arrows, 
strongly  propelled  by  their  gigantic  bows,  upon  the 
line    of   the  Greeks.     These   for  the  time .  could  do 

*  Literally,  "I  place  my  pebble.*  A  common  method  of 
voting  was  by  putting  pebbles  into  an  urn  or  box,  and  the 
same  word  (psephos)  was  used  for  "vote"  and  "pebble.* 


76  BOW  AeADCST   SPBAB. 

nothing  but  endure.  The  victims  gave  no  favourable 
signs,  and  without  these  Pausanias  did  not  venture 
to  move.  It  was  not  till,  wearied  of  this  disastrous 
delay,  he  turned  to  the  neighbouring  shrine  of  Here, 
and  implored  the  goddess  to  help  him,  that  the  omenfl 
changed,  and  the  welcome  order  to  charge  was  given. 
The  Tegeans,  less  patient  or  less  superstitious,  had 
already  advanced,  and  the  two  armies  closed  in  a 
furious  struggle.  But  the  time  for  the  bow  was  over ; 
the  triumph  of  the  spear  was  come.  In  vain  did  the 
Persians  fling  themselves  with  desperate  courage  on 
the  foe,  actually  grappling  with  them  in  close  embrace. 
The  Greeks  were  practised  soldiers  and  athletes,  and 
they  were  protected,  as  far  as  the  most  vital  parts 
were  concerned,  by  armour.  No  valour  could  avail 
against  such  odds,  and  the  battle  was  soon  decided. 
The  Persians  fled  in  headlong  confusion  to  their  camp, 
hotly  pursued  by  their  adversaries,  who,  now  that  the 
victory  was  practically  won,  were  joined  by  some  of 
the  other  Greek  contingents. 

The  Athenians  meanwhile  had  had  a  harder  task, 
matched  as  they  were  with  the  Greek  allies  of  Mar- 
donius.  Foremost  among  these  were  the  Thebans,  a 
race  whose  stubborn  courage  changed  more  than  once 
the  course  of  Greek  history.*  Others  were  probably 
less  resolute,  the  Phocians  especially,  whose  fidelity 

*  At  Delium  (B.C.  425)  where  they  checked  the  tide  of 
A-thenian  conquest,  and  again  in  the  siege  of  Syracuse. 


BOW    AGAINST    SPEAB.  77 

to  a  cause  which  they  had  espoused  under  compulsion, 
had  already  been  doubted.  After  a  stout  resistance 
the  Greek  allies  of  Mardonius  retired,  but  in  good 
order,  and  the  Athenians  were  free  to  join  their 
allies  in  the  attack  upon  the  camp.  In  this  no  pro- 
gress had  been  made,  so  unskilled  were  the  Spartans 
in  all  fighting  not  carried  on  in  the  open  field.  The 
Athenians  brought  with  them  some  knowledge  of  siege 
operations,  and  it  was  not  long  before  the  camp  was 
stormed.  A  frightful  massacre  followed,  the  conquer- 
ors slaying  without  mercy  till  their  arras  were  weary. 
Mardonius  and  his  bodyguard  of  a  thousand  Immortals 
had  perished  earlier  in  the  day;  before  nightfall  the 
huge  Persian  host  had  practically  ceased  to  exist. 
It  was  said  that  only  three  thousand  were  left  alive. 
It  must  be  remembered,  however,  that  one  of  the 
subordinate  commanders,  Artabanus  by  name,  had 
separated  his  own  force  of  sixty  thousand  from  the 
enemy  before  the  battle  commenced.  He  hurried  with 
them  northwards,  as  speedily  as  possible,  and  was 
able  to  reach  Asia  in  safety.  Of  the  Greeks  one 
hundred  and  fifty-nine  fell,  the  losses  being  thus  divided, 
of  the  Lacedaemonians  ninety-one,  of  the  Tegeans 
sixteen,  of  the  Athenians  fifty-two.  The  other  Greeks 
had  practically  no  share  in  the  battle  though,  several 
cities  bribed  the  Plataeans,  who  were  constituted 
guardians  of  the  field,  to  allow  them  to  erect  monu- 
mental barrows. 


78  BOW   AGAINST   SPEAR. 

Plutarch,  it  is  true,  says  that  the  total  loss  of  the 
Greeks  was  one  thousand  three  hundred  and  sixty. 
To  make  up  this  number  we  must  add  those  that  fell 
in  the  movements  before  the  battle,  and  six  hundred 
Megarians,  who  were  cut  off  by  the  Theban  cavalry, 
and,  as  Herodotus  says,  *  perished  without  honour. ' 
This  makes  a  total  of  seven  hundred  and  fifty-nine. 
The  difference  between  this  and  Plutarch's  figure,  (six 
hundred)  may,  perhaps,  be  accounted  for  by  reckoning 
in  the  Helots  or  light-armed  troops  who  accompanied 
the  Spartan  and  Perioeci.  Of  these  there  were  forty 
thousanh  on  the  field.  Herodotus  gives  the  Spartan 
loss  oul/. 


HERODOTUS, 


From  a  Bust  in  the  Farnese  Collection  at 
Naples, 


CHAPTER  Vm 

SPOILT  BY  PBOSPERITT. 

r  cannot  be  said  that  Pausanias  displayed  any 
special  skill  in  his  strategy  at  Plataea.  From 
first  to  last  it  was  a  soldiers'  battle,  won  by  the 
superior  force  and  more  effective  arms  and  armour 
of  the  Greeks.  But  it  brought,  as  such  battles  often 
do,  an  enormous  access  of  reputation  to  the  general 
in  command.  And  this  was  increased  rather  than 
diminished  by  the  way  in  which  he  bore  himself  in 
the  hour  of  victory.  He  behaved  with  chivalrous 
courtesy  to  a  Greek  woman  who  was  found  in  the 
Persian  camp.  She  had  been  carried  off  from  her 
home,  which  was  in  the  island  of  Cos,  by  the  Per- 
sians, and  she  besought  Pausanias  to  rescue  her  from 
a  dishonourable  captivity.  "I  am  always  i^eady,"  he 
answered,  "to  hear  the  prayer  of  a  suppliant,  much 
more  when  the  suppliant  is  the  daughter  of  my  old 
friend,  Hegetorides  of  Cos."  To  an  adviser  who 
suggested   that  he   should   impale  the  dead  body  of 

19 


80  SPOILT   BY   PBOSPERITT, 

Mardonius  by  way  of  revenging  the  indignities  to 
which  Xerxes  had  subjected  the  corpse  of  Leonidas, 
he  replied  that  such  advice  was  more  suited  to  bar- 
barians than  to  Greeks;  as  for  Leonidas  and  the 
Three  Hundred,  they  had  had  an  ampler  and  more 
noble  vengeance  in  the  thousands  of  Persians  who 
had  fallen  on  the  field  of  battle.  "Never  come  to 
me  again,"  he  added,  *with  such  counsel,  and  think 
yourself  fortunate  that  even  now  you  have  not  suf- 
fered for  it  what  you  deserve."  On  the  evening  of 
the  battle  he  is  said  to  have  given  his  colleagues  in 
command  a  practical  illustration  of  what  seemed  to 
him  the  lesson  of  the  event.  "Xerxes  had  left  his 
war-tent  with  Mardonius  when  he  fled  from  Greece," 
this  is  the  fashion  in  which  Herodotus  tells  the 
story,  "and  when  Mardonius  saw  it,  with  its  adorn- 
ments of  gold  and  silver  and  its  hangings  of  divers 
colours,  he  gave  commandment  to  the  bakers  and  the 
cooks  that  they  should  prepare  for  him  a  banquet, 
such  as  they  had  been  wont  to  serve  up  to  Mar- 
donius. So  they  made  ready,  as  was  commanded. 
And  when  Pausanias  saw  the  couches  of  gold  and 
silver  fairly  furnished,  and  tables  of  gold  and  silver, 
and  all  the  splendid  furniture  of  the  feast,  he  was 
astonished  at  the  good  things  that  he  beheld.  Then, 
by  way  of  jest,  he  bade  his  own  servants  prepare 
a  meal  in  Spartan  fashion,  and  because  there  was  a 
notable   difference  between  the  one  furnishing  and 


SPOILT   BY  PROSPERITY.  81 

the  other,  he  sent  for  the  leaders  of  the  Greeks. 
When  the  men  were  assembled,  Pausanias,  pointing 
to  the  setting  forth  of  the  two  meals,  said,  'Men  of 
Greece,  it  is  for  this  purpose  I  sent  for  you,  to 
show  you  the  folly  of  these  Persians,  who  having 
such  things  at  their  command,  came  to  rob  us  whose 
possessions  are  so  poverty-stricken.*' 

All  this  was  in  true  Spartan  fashion.  But  no- 
thing is  more  manifest  in  Greek  history  than  that  the 
Spartan  training  did  not,  as  a  rule,  enable  its  pupils 
to  resist  the  temptations  of  prosperity.  Frugal  and 
self-restrained  at  home,  they  were  too  often  notori- 
ous for  their  luxury  and  self-indulgence  abroad. 
So  it  was  with  Pausanias.  The  spoils  of  the  Per- 
sian arniy  amounted,  as  may  be  supposed,  to  a  very 
large  treasure,  in  spite  of  the  numerous  peculations 
of  the  Helots,  who  had  been  set  to  collect  it.*  A 
tenth  was  set  apart  for  the  Delphian  Apollo;  oflfer- 
ings  -were  made  to  the  other  gods ;  every  soldier  who  had 
taken  part  in  the  battle  had  his  share.  But  the 
portion  reserved  for  Pausanias  was  very  large;  'ten 
specimens  of  every  kind  of  thing,'  says  Herodotus. 
This  sudden  wealth  did  much  to  spoil  him. 

♦Herodotus  says:  "The  Helots  at  this  time  stole  manyyeiy 
valuable  things.  Those  they  sold  in  after-time  to  the  men  of 
^gina.  Ajid  this  was  the  beginning  of  the  great  wealth  of 
the  men  of  iEgina,  for  they  bought  the  gold  from  the  Helots 
as  if  it  kad  been  bo  much  brass.* 

6 


82  SPOILT    BY    PROSPERITT. 

The  corrupting  process  was  not,  indeed,  manifest 
at  once.  An  opportunity  of  still  further  enriching 
himself  soon  offered  itself,  and  his  integrity  seems 
to  have  excited  surprise.  The  first  act  of  the  vic- 
torious Greeks  was  to  punish  the  traitorous  conduct 
of  the  Thebans.  Thebes  had  exerted  itself  energetic- 
ally to  advance  the  Persian  cause.  Other  states 
had  yielded  to  superior  force,  and  had  at  the  worst 
been  guilty  of  want  of  courage,  but,  Thebes  had  done 
its  very  best  to  bring  about  the  subjugation  of  Greece. 
Pausanias  now  demanded  that  the  political  leaders 
who  were  responsible  for  this  misconduct  should  be 
surrendered  to  him  for  punishment.  The  demand 
was  refused,  and  he  proceeded  to  lay  siege  to  the 
city  and  to  ravage  its  territory.  The  accused  persons 
then  offered  to  give  themselves  up.  One  of  them, 
indeed,  escaped,  but  the  others  were  surrendered. 
They  counted,  Herodotus  tells  us,  on  being  regularly 
tried,  and  were  confident  that  they  would  be  able  to 
secure  an  acquittal  by  bribing  their  judges.  Spartan 
corruption  was  already  notorious  in  Greece,  and  the 
accused  men  doubtless  relied  on  purchasing  the  good 
will  of  Pausanias,  who  would,  of  course,  be  president 
of  the  court.  This  expectation  the  Spartan  chief 
disappointed.  He  treated  his  prisoners  as  men  mani- 
festly guilty,  whom  it  would  be  a  waste  of  time  to 
try,  took  them  to  the  Isthmus,  and  there  promptly 
executed  them. 


SPOILT   BY   PROSPERITY.  83 

The  battle  of  Plataea  was  fought  in  the  month  of 
September.  That  year  nothing  more  was  done,  but 
the  next  spring  Pausanias  sailed  with  the  fleet  of 
the  confederates  to  Cyprus.  After  conquering  the 
greater  part  of  the  island,  he  made  his  way  to 
Byzantium,  a  Greek  colony  which  had  fallen  into 
the  hands  of  the  Persians.  The  Persian  garrison 
made  an  obstinate  resistance,  but,  in  the  end,  the 
town  was  taken.  And  now  the  poison  began  to  work 
in  the  mind  of  the  Spartan  chief.  He  had  already 
given  offence  to  his  countrymen  by  the  vainglorious 
inscription  which  he  had  caused  to  be  inscribed  on 
the  offering  made  out  of  the  spoils  of  Plataea  to 
the  Delphian  Apollo.  This  ran  as  follows:  *  Pausanias, 
leader  of  the  Greeks,  having  destroyed  the  army  of 
the  Medes,  offers  this  memorial  to  Phoebus."  The 
authorities  of  Sparta  commanded  that  these  words 
should  be  erased,  and  that  a  list  of  the  states  which 
took  part  in  the  battle  of  Plataea  should  be  substi- 
tuted for  it.  ♦    He  now  conceived  the  idea  of  making 

*  Herodotus  describes  the  offering  as  "a  golden  tripod,  stand- 
ing on  a  bronze  serpent  with  three  heads."  Pausanias  saw  a 
part  of  it  at  Delphi  about  150  A.D.  "The  bronze  part  of  it,* 
he  says,  "was  there  in  my  time,  but  the  golden  part  had  been 
abstracted  by  the  Phocian  leaders."  A  little  less  than  two 
centuries  afterwards  this  'bronze  part*  was  removed  by  Con- 
stantino to  his  new  capital.  There  it  remains  to  this  day, 
though   in    a   mutilated   form.     Spon,    a    French  traveller,  who 


84  SPOILT   BY   PBOSPERITT. 

himself  supreme  in  Greece  by  help  of  the  Persian 
king.  The  first  step  was  to  send  to  Xerxes  some 
Persian  prisoners  of  importance  who  had  been  cap- 
tured in  Byzantium.  His  colleagues  in  command 
were  given  to  understand  that  these  men  had  escaped. 
He  then  sent  a  confidential  agent,  one  Gongylus,  a 
citizen  of  Eretria,  with  a  letter  which  ran  as  fol- 
lows :  *  Pausanias,  chief  of  Sparta,  sends  thee  these 
prisoners  of  war  desiring  to  do  thee  a  pleasure.  I 
have  it  in  my  mind,  if  it  seems  good  to  thee  also, 
to  marry  thy  daughter,  and  to  make  Sparta  and  the 
rest  of  Greece  subject  to  thee.  And  this  I  count 
myself  able  to  do,  by  taking  counsel  with  thee.  If, 
therefore,  any  of  these  things  please  thee,  send  down 
to  the  sea  some  trusty  man,  through  whom  we  may 
do  business  hereafter."  That  the  letter  is  not  an 
exact    transcript    of    Pausanias's    communication    is 

visited  Constantinople  in  1675,  in  company  with  Mr.,  afterwards 
the  Rev.  Sir  George,  Wheler,  saw  it  in  a  nearly  perfect  con- 
dition. It  is  figured  in  his  "Journey  into  Greece,  in  the  com- 
pany of  Dr.  Spon  of  Lyons,"  the  three  heads  being  shown 
distinctly.  The  heads  are  now  gone,  though  one  of  them  is 
still  preserved  in  the  Church  of  St.  Irene,  and  exhibits  a  flat- 
tened crest,  intended,  it  would  seem,  to  support  the  tripod.  In 
the  Crimean  war  what  remains  of  the  serpent  was  carefully 
examined.  The  inscription  was  then  deciphered.  It  shows  th« 
names  of  the  nations  taking  part  in  the  battle  of  Plataea  and 
substantially  agrees  with  the  account  of  Herodotus  and  the  list 
given  by  Pausanias. 


SPOILT   BT  PROSPERITT.  85 

clear  from  the  fact  that  the  dialect  used  is  Attic. 
Otherwise  it  has  a  very  natural  look,  especially  in 
the  changes  from  the  third  person  to  the  first,  a 
very  likely  thing  to  be  done  by  a  person  unaccus- 
tomed to  writing. 

Xerxes  was  greatly  pleased,  it  would  seem,  at  the 
suggestion.  He  sent  Artabazus,  who  had  held  high 
command  in  the  army  left  in  Greece,  with  instruc- 
tions to  take  over  the  Satrapy  which  included  the 
north-western  coasts  of  Asia  Minor.  Artabazus  was 
the  bearer  of  a  letter  which  Thucydides  has  pre- 
served. •  "  Thus  saith  King  Xerxes  to  Pausanias. 
As  for  the  men  whom  thou  didst  save  over  the  sea 
in  Byzantium,  the  benefit  is  laid  up  in  our  house 
recorded  for  ever ;  as  for  thy  words,  I  am  pleased 
with  them,  let  not  night  or  day  stay  thee  that  thou 
shouldst  fail  to  do  the  things  that  thou  promisest. 
and  be  not  hindered  for  any  spending  of  gold  or 
silver  or  for  lack  of  men,  if  such  thou  shouldst  need. 
Fear  not  to  do  with  Artabazus,  a  trusty  man,  whom 
I  send  to  thee,  all  that  concerns  both  thy  business 
and  mine,  so  that  all  profit  and  honour  may  come  to 
both  of  us." 

The  Spartan's  head  was  fairly  turned  by  this 
communication  from  the  great  King.  The  simple 
frugal  life  in  which  he  had  been  trained  from 
childhood  ceased  to  content  him.  He  adopted  the 
gorgeous  Persian  dress ;  Indian  and  Egyptian  body- 


86  SPOILT    BY   PROSPERITY. 

guards  accompanied  him  in  his  progresses  through 
Thrace.  His  table  was  served  in  the  very  same 
oriental  fashion  with  which  he  had  pointed  the  moral 
of  contentment  for  his  colleagues  at  Plataea.  His 
demeanour  became  haughty  and  insolent  to  all  with 
whom  he  came  in  contact,  while  he  began  to  affect 
the  seclusion  which  was  commonly  practised  by 
oriental  rulers.  Crimes,  far  worse  than  these  follies, 
were  laid  to  his  charge.  The  Spartan  authorities  at 
home  promptly  recalled  him.  He  obeyed  the  sum- 
mons, but  went  out  again  in  a  private  capacity. 
His  conduct  again  gave  rise  to  the  same  suspicions. 
The  Athenians  forcibly  expelled  him  from  Byzan- 
tium. Instead  of  returning  home  he  took  up  his 
residence  on  the  Troad,  and  continued  his  old  in- 
trigues. The  Spartans  sent  a  herald  after  him  with 
a  positive  injunction  that  he  was  to  accompany  the 
messenger.  In  default  he  would  be  declared  a  public 
enemy.  Anxious  not  to  push  the  matter  to  extremities, 
he  returned,  hoping,  not,  we  are  compelled  to  believe, 
without  good  reason,  that  by  a  judicious  use  of  money 
he  could  secure  acquittal.  On  his  arrival  he  was 
thrown  into  prison.  Obtaining  his  release,  he  chal- 
lenged his  accusers  to  put  him  on  his  trial.  The 
authorities  had  no  absolute  proofs,  and  they  were 
unwilling,  in  default  of  these,  to  proceed  against  a 
man  of  much  personal  distinction,  who  was  also 
acting  as  regent  for  his  nephew,  the  young  son  of 


SPOILT   BY  PROSPERITY.  87 

Leonidas.  Then  some  Helots  with  whose  loyalty  he 
had  tampered  informed  against  him.  He  had  pro- 
mised them  their  freedom,  they  said,  if  they  would 
help  him  to  overturn  the  existing  constitution  of 
Sparta.  But  even  this  testimony  did  not  suffice. 
To  be  available  against  a  man  of  such  a  position, 
the  proof  must  be  beyond  all  question.  At  last 
such  proof  was  found.  Pausanias  had  employed 
a  certain  Argibius  to  act  as  his  messenger  to 
Artabazus.  Argibius  had  observed  that  none  of 
those  who  had  been  employed  before  him  in  this 
service  had  returned.  He  broke  the  seal  of  the 
letter,  read  it,  and  discovered  an  injunction  that 
the  messenger  was  to  be  put  to  death.  He  carried 
the  letter  to  the  Ephors.  These  magistrates 
were  at  last  convinced.  They  laid  a  plot  to  get 
Pausanias  to  convict  himself  out  of  his  own  mouth. 
The  messenger  was  instructed  to  seek  sanctuary  at 
the  Temple  of  Poseidon  on  the  promontory  of 
Taenarum.*  The  magistrates  thought  it  probable 
that  Pausanias  would  seek  an  interview  with  him, 
as  the  fact  of  his  having  taken  sanctuary  was  com- 
promising to  himself.  Accordingly  they  contrived 
a  shelter  for  themselves  from  which  they  might 
hear  any  conversation  that  took  place.  What  they 
expected  happened.     Pausanias  hurried  to  the  Temple, 

*  Now  C.  Matapan.     'Matapan"  has  by  a  very  probable  con- 
jecture been  identified  with  the  word  m^foponaE" face." 


88  SPOILT  BY  PROBPEBITT. 

and  asked  his  servant  the  reason  for  his  conduct. 
The  man  reproached  him  with  the  instructions  given 
in  the  letter,  reminded  him  that  he  had  always  done 
his  part  in  the  negotiations  with  the  king  prudently, 
and  complained  that  he  had  been  condemned  to  the 
same  fate  which  had  overtaken  his  predecessors. 
Pausanias,  in  answer,  confessed  the  wrong  that  he 
had  done,  begged  for  forgiveness,  pledged  his  word 
not  to  harm  him,  if  he  would  leave  the  sanctuary,  and 
entreated  him  to  do  his  errand  with  all  speed,  and 
not  retard  the  negotiations.  The  magistrates  could 
no  longer  doubt.  They  resolved  to  arrest  Pausanias 
as  soon  as  he  had  returned  to  Sparta.  But  before 
ihe  arrest  was  effected,  the  guilty  man  detected  on 
the  face  of  one  of  the  magistrates  the  errand  on 
which  he  had  come.  Another  of  them  indicated  by 
a  significant  nod  that  he  should  take  refuge  in  the 
Temple  of  Athen^  of  the  Brazen  House,  the  sacred 
enclosure  of  which  was  close  at  hand.  Pausanias 
just  managed  to  escape  his  pursuers,  but  this  did 
but  prolong  his  life  for  a  few  days.  He  had  taken 
refuge  in  a  small  chapel  attached  to  the  Temple. 
The  magistrates  took  off  the  roof  and  the  doors  and  built 
him  up.  When  he  was  on  the  point  of  dying  of 
hunger,  they  carried  him  out;  a  few  moments  after- 
wards he  expired.  Their  first  intention  was  to  cast 
his  corpse  into  the  pit  reserved  for  the  bodies  of 
criminals.    On  second  thoughts  they  gave  it  decent 


f 


SPOILT    BY    PROSPERITY.  89 

burial  near  the  Temple.  One  tragic  addition  to  the 
story  represents  that  the  traitor's  aged  mother  laid 
the  first  brick  when  he  was  built  up.  She  came 
and  went  in  silence.  She  was  a  Spartan,  but  she 
could  not  wholly  forget  that  she  was  a  mother. 


CHAPTER  EL 
TRAITOR  OR  PATRI0T9 

I  HAVE  already  spoken  of  the  extraordinary,  it 
might  almost  be  said,  preternatural  sagacity  of 
Themistocles.  I  have  also  said  in  reference  to  the 
message  which  he  sent  to  the  Persian  king  before 
the  battle  of  Salamis,  that  in  the  midst  of  his  patri- 
otism he  never  forgot  his  personal  fortunes.  It  is 
difficult  indeed,  when  we  consider  the  events  of  his 
later  career,  to  avoid  the  conclusion  that  his  piivate 
interests  counted  far  more  with  him  than  suits  the 
highest  type  of  a  statesman,  more  than  they  did,  for 
instance,  with  Ai'istides  or  with  Cimon.  Various 
anecdotes  that  tend  this  way  are  told  of  him  in 
reference  to  the  operations  of  the  war.  When  the 
first  stand  was  made  against  the  advancing  Persians, 
it  was  arranged  that  the  army  stationed  at  Thermo- 
pylsB  should  be  supported  by  the  fleet  taking  up  a 
position  at  Artemisium,  a  promontory  in  the  north 
of  Euboea.     The  inhabitants  of  this  island  reckoned, 


THEMISTOCLES. 
From  a  Bust  in  the  Vatican. 


TRAITOR    OR   PATRT*---?  91 

in  consequence,  of  having  at  least  time  to  remove 
their  families  from  the  scene  of  danger,  and  also  to 
secure  the  moveable  portion  of  their  property.  But 
the  Greek  commanders  were  so  terrified  by  the  sight 
of  the  Persian  fleet,  which  lay  at  anchor  within  view 
on  the  opposite  coast,  and  by  the  general  sense  of 
the  invader's  superiority  in  force,  that  they  resolved 
to  retreat.  The  islanders,  thus  abandoned,  were  in 
despair.  They  appealed  to  the  commanders  of  the 
fleet,  but  in  vain.  Then  they  sought  an  interview 
with  Themistocles,  and  offered  him  thirty  talents,* 
if  he  could  so  arrange  that  the  fleet  should  remain 
at  Artemisium  for  at  least  a  few  days.  Themistocles 
took  the  money,  purchased  the  adherence  of  the  Spartan 
commander  by  a  bribe  of  five  talents,  and  that  of 
the  Corinthian  by  a  bribe  of  three.  The  remainder, 
more  than  two- thirds  of  the  whole,  he  kept  for  himself. 

After  the  victory  of  Salamis,  his  conduct  was  still 
more  unscrupulous.  States  that  had  given  up  their 
submission  to  the  Persian  king  might  expect  to  suffer 
for  it.  Themistocles,  "  always  seeking  for  gain, " 
according  to  Herodotus,  saw  and  used  the  oppor- 
tunity of  aggrandizing  his  private  fortunes.  He  used 
his  influence  with  the  allied  Greeks  to  spare  or  deal 
leniently  with  cities  which  purchased  his  favour,  and 
to  use  severity  to  those  which  refused  to  do  so. 
In  one  case  at  least,  that  of  Carystus,  an  Euboean 

♦  About  £7000. 


92  TRAITOB   OB   PATRIOT? 

town  which  had  been  compelled  to  submit  to  tbe 
Persians,  he  was  unable  or  unwilling  to  fulfil  his 
bargain.  He  took  the  bribe  but  allowed  its  terri- 
tory to  be  plundered. 

The  proceedings  of  Themistocles  at  Sparta,  after 
the  final  repulse  of  the  Persians,  were  less  blame- 
worthy, because  they  were  not  suggested  by  personal 
interest,  but  they  were  such  as  a  high-minded  States- 
man would  not  have  stooped  to. 

The  Athenians  began,  as  soon  as  possible  after 
their  return  to  their  country,  to  rebuild  their  city, 
and  to  surround  it  with  larger  and  stronger  fortifi- 
cations than  it  had  before  possessed.  The  Spartans, 
prompted  partly  by  their  perpetual  jealousy,  partly 
by  the  remonstrances  of  their  allies,  begged  them  to 
desist.  Their  own  city  was,  by  their  deliberate  choice, 
unwalled,  and  they  would  gladly  have  had  all  their 
rivals  in  the  same  condition.  The  reason  which  they 
put  forward  for  their  request  was  of  a  different  kind. 
It  would  be  injurious,  they  alleged,  to  the  common 
interests  of  Greece,  if  the  Persians,  in  any  further 
invasion,  should  find  a  walled  city  outside  the  Pelo- 
ponnese  to  occupy.  Thebes  had  been  such  a  city, 
and  had  therefore  been  injurious  to  the  Greek  cause. 
The  Athenians  ought  not  to  think  of  supplying  the 
enemy  with  a  second  advantage  of  the  same  kind. 
The  Athenians,  at  the  suggestion  of  Themistocles, 
gave  no  direct  answer  to  these  representations ;  they 


TRAITOR   OR   PATRIOT?  93 

would  send  envoys  to  Sparta  who  should  be  quali- 
fied to  express  their  opinion.  Of  those  envoys  Themis- 
tocles  was  one.  His  colleagues,  one  of  whom  was 
Aristides,  were  long  in  arriving — so  it  had  been 
arranged— and  Themistocles  declined  to  act  in  their 
absence.  While  they  lingered  the  whole  population 
of  Athens  laboured  incessantly  at  the  walls.  Nothing 
was  spared,  private  houses  and  public  buildings  being 
alike  destroyed  to  furnish  materials. 

The  walls  had  risen  to  half  their  planned  height, 
when  news  of  what  was  going  on  was  brought  to 
Sparta,  probably  by  some  jealous  neighbour  of  Athens. 
The  authorities  taxed  Themistocles  with  deceiving 
them.  He  promptly  denied  the  charge;  he  affirmed 
that  the  news  was  false,  that  nothing  was  being 
done  in  the  matter  of  the  building  of  the  walls. 
"  Send  envoys  to  see  for  themselves, "  he  said  to  the 
Epliors.  The  Spartans  naturally  believed  an  assertion 
made  with  such  confidence.  They  had,  too,  a  profound 
and,  it  must  be  said,  a  well-earned  respect  for 
Themistocles,  and  were  not  unconscious  of  the  great- 
ness of  the  service  which  he  had  rendered  to  them  and 
to  the  whole  of  Greece.  The  envoys  were  sent,  and 
with  them  went  private  instructions  from  Themistocles 
to  the  Athenian  government  to  keep  them  in  safe 
custody,  or,  anyhow,  to  hinder  them  from  communi- 
cating with  anyone.  Meanwhile  Themistocles's  two 
colleagues  arrived,  bringing  with  them  authoritative 


94  TRAITOR    OR    PATRIOT? 

news  that  the  walls  were  now  sufficiently  high  for 
purposes  of  defence.  Themistocles  then  came  forward 
and  boldly  avowed  the  truth.  The  Athenians,  he  said, 
had  lately  proved  how  well  able  they  were  to  judge 
on  matters  that  concerned  their  own  duty  and  the 
common  welfare  of  Greece.  The  Spartans  made  no 
reply ;  they  were  well  aware  that  the  building  might 
possibly  have  been  prevented,  but  that  once  done  it 
could  not  be  undone.  They  uttered  no  remonstrances 
or  reproaches,  but  they  never  forgave  the  man  who 
had  deceived  them.  They  were  not  more  favourably 
disposed  to  him  by  his  subsequent  policy,  when  ha 
still  further  increased  the  strength  of  Athens  by 
suggesting  the  building  of  the  Long  Walls,  the 
fortifications  which  connected  the  city  with  the  great 
harbour  of  the  Peiraeus. 

For  a  time  the  Spartans  were  content  to  leave 
him  to  enjoy  his  popularity  undisturbed.  But  they 
had  intimate  relations  with  an  influential  party  in 
Athens  which  was  always  on  the  watch  to  bring 
about  the  degradation  of  a  powerful  rival,  nor  did 
the  conduct  of  Themistocles  himself  fail  to  afford 
them  opportunities  of  attack.  The  people,  always 
jealous  of  the  personal  ascendency  even  of  the  most 
esteemed  citizens,  took  offence  at  the  boasts  which 
the  great  statesman  was  said  to  utter  about  his 
signal  services  to  his  country,  and  at  various  other 
indications   of  self-esteem,  among  them  the  erection 


TRAITOR   OB   PATRIOT?  95 

of  a  chapel  near  his  house  dedicated  to  Athen^  of 
Good  Counsel.*  Then  there  were  charges  of  cor- 
ruption brought  against  him  by  persons  from  the 
allied  cities.  It  was  affirmed  that  he  had  accepted 
bribes  to  pronounce  sentences  often  unjust,  banishing 
and  even  executing  citizens  on  allegations  of  Medism 
which  had  been  made  by  personal  enemies.  Not 
many  years  after  the  repulse  of  the  Persians — the  precise 
date  is  not  known — these  feelings  found  expression 
in  a  formal  accusation.  He  was  arraigned  before 
the  Assembly.  His  political  opponents  did  their 
best  to  bring  about  his  condemnation,  and  the  Spar- 
tans, it  is  said,  were  liberal  with  their  bribes.  But 
the  memory  of  his  great  services  to  Athens  was  still 
strong.  His  own  appeal  to  them  carried  an  irre- 
sistible weight;  and  he  was  acquitted. 

In  471  the  enemies  of  Themistocles  succeeded  in 
bringing  about,  not  his  condemnation,  but  his  ostracism, 
the  singular  process  by  which  a  jealous  democracy 
expressed  its  opinion  that  this  or  that  citizen  was 
growing  too  powerful  to  be  endured  with  safety  to 
the  state.f    He  retired  from  Athens  to  Argos. 

*  We  may  compare  with  this  phrase  the  various  titlM  given 
to  the  Madonna,  "  Our  Lady  of  Pity,*  etc. 

t  Ostracism  (so  called  from  the  ostrakon — potsherd — on  which 
the  vote  was  inscribed)  was  a  kind  of  informal  banishment.  A 
leading  statesman  proposed  the  banishment  of  a  rival.  The  As- 
sembly deliberated  whether  any  such  proceeding  was  necessary. 
If  it  decided  in  the  affirmative  a  day  was  appointed  for  voting. 


96  TRAITOR   OB   PATRIOT? 

Six  years  afterwards  came  the  discovery  of  the 
treason  of  Pausanias,  described  in  my  last  chapter. 
The  Lacedaemonian  authorities  discovered  among  the 
documents  which  came  into  their  hands  what  they 
considered  to  be  proofs  of  the  complicity  of  Themis- 
tocles.  The  language  of  Thucydides,  born,  it  will  be 
remembered,  in  471,  and  so  not  far  removed  from 
the  time,  seems  to  imply  that  these  proofs  were 
genuine.  The  historian  Ephorus,  about  five  genera- 
tions later,  says  that  Pausanias  solicited  the  aid  of 
Themistocles,  but  that  the  latter  took  no  part  in  the 
afifair,  though  he  concealed  his  knowledge  of  it.  The 
two  accounts  are  not  inconsistent.  At  the  same  time 
there  is  nothing  in  the  character  of  Themistocles  to 
make  us  feel,  as  we  feel  about  Aristides  or  Cimon, 

The  citizens  who  desired  to  express  an  opinion  wrote  down  on 
the  ostrakon  the  name  of  the  person  whom  they  thought  it 
expedient  to  expel  from  the  city.  It  might  be  either  the  name 
of  the  proposer  or  the  name  of  his  adversary.  It  was  necessary 
that  as  many  as  six  thousand  voters  should  record  their 
opinions.  If  this  condition  had  been  fulfilled,  the  person  whose 
name  was  found  on  the  majority  of  voting-papers,  if  we  may  so  call 
them,  had  to  go  into  exile.  But  this  exile  was  mitigated.  It 
was  limited  in  duration,  lasting  for  a  period  of  ten  years,  af- 
terwards reduced  to  five,  and  it  did  not  carry  with  it  confis- 
cation of  property.  Many  distinguished  citizens  suffered  this 
penalty  of  ostracism,  Aristides  among  them.  The  last  person 
to  be  ostracized  was  the  demagogue  Hyperbolus,  so  contemp- 
tible a  person,  according  to  his  enemies,  that  the  practice  fell 
into  disrepute  after  being  applied  to  him. 


THUCYDIDES. 


TRAITOR    OR    PATRIOT?  97 

fchat  he  could  not  possibly  have  tampered  with 
treasonable  schemes.  However  this  may  be,  the 
Spartans  demanded  that  Themistocles  should  be  put 
on  his  trial  before  a  congress  of  Greek  states,  and 
the  two  powers  forthwith  despatched  messengers  to 
arrest  him.  Warned,  it  is  probable,  that  Argos  would 
not  venture  to  protect  him,  he  fled  to  Corcyra,*  a  city 
to  which  in  the  days  of  his  prosperity  he  had  done 
some  kindness.  The  people  of  Corcyra  were  willing 
enough  to  show  their  gratitude,  but  could  not  engage 
to  protect  him  against  a  combination  f)f  the  Greek 
states.  They  passed  him  to  the  Mainland,  where  he 
was  now  outside  the  borders  of  Greece.  The  mes- 
sengers still  pursued  him,  and  he  was  so  hard  pressed 
that  he  was  compelled  to  take  refuge  in  the  dwelling 
of  Admetus,  king  of  the  Molossians.  f  Admetus  had 
in  former  days  received  some  affront  from  Themis- 
tocles, probably  in  connection  with  some  suit  against 
an  Athenian  citizen,  and  was  not  likely  to  be  friendly 
to  him.  Fortunately  for  the  fugitive,  the  king  hap- 
pened to  be  away  from  home.  His  wife  received 
Themistocles  kindly,  and  instructed  him  to  sit  at  the 
hearth  with  her  child  in  his  arms.  This  was  the 
attitude  of  a  suppliant,  and  would  appeal  in  the 
strongest  way  to  both  the  conscience  and  the  com- 

*  Now  Corfu. 

t    1  he   Molossians  were  oile  of  the  tribes  inhabiting  Epeima 
i literally  the  "Mainland  ")  lying  to  the  N.E.  of  Greece  Proper. 

7 


98  TRAITOR   OR    PATRIOT? 

passion  of  Admetus.  And  the  appeal  was  successful. 
Admetus  promised  his  protection,  and  actually  refused 
to  give  him  up  when  the  emissaries  from  Athens 
and  Sparta  arrived  at  his  court  and  demanded  the 
fugitive.  But  Themistocles  was  not  content  to  spend 
the  rest  of  his  days  at  the  court  of  a  half-barbarous 
king.  He  had  more  ambitious  schemes  in  his  head. 
Admetus,  at  his  request,  furnished  him  with  guides 
who  conducted  him  across  the  hills  to  a  Macedonian 
seaport.  Finding  there  a  merchant-vessel  about  to 
sail  for  the  coast  of  Asia  Minor  he  took  his  passage  in 
it.  No  one  had  recognized  him,  and  he  did  not 
give  his  name.  A  storm  drove  the  vessel  out  of  its 
course  to  the  island  of  Naxos.  Under  ordinary 
circumstances  the  captain  would  have  gladly  seized 
the  opportunity  of  obtaining  rest  and  refreshment. 
But  to  stop  at  Naxos  would  have  been  ruin  to 
Themistocles,  for  the  place  was  then  besieged  by  an 
Athenian  fleet.  Themistocles  acted  with  charac- 
teristic courage  and  ingenuity,  and  with  as  little  scruple 
as  usual  about  speaking  the  truth.  He  discovered 
his  name  to  the  captain,  promised  him  a  great 
reward  if  he  succeeded  in  escaping,  but  threatened 
to  accuse  him  of  having  been  an  accomplice,  should 
he  be  captured.  The  captain  consented  not  to 
approach,  and,  after  beating  about  off  the  island  for 
a  day  and  a  night,  carried  his  passenger  safely  to 
Ephesus. 


TEAITOB   OB   PATRIOT?  99 

Artaxerxes,  the  son  of  Xerxes,  had  been  on  the 

Persian  throne  a  few  months  when  Themistocles 
arrived.  He  received  the  news  with  pleasure,  accord- 
ing to  some  accounts  with  even  extravagant  expres- 
sions of  joy.  The  letter  in  which  the  fugitive 
announced  his  arrival  was  abrupt  and  even  haughty, 
but  it  seems  not  to  have  given  offence  to  the  king.  It 
ran  thus :  "  I,  Themistocles^  am  come  to  thee,  1  who  did 
to  thy  house  more  damage  than  any  man  in  Greece,  so 
long  as  I  was  compelled  to  defend  myself  against  thy 
father,  but  who  also  did  him  great  service,  ivhen  it 
was  possible  so  to  do  without  danger  to  myself,  and 
his  escape  was  imperilled.  There  is  yet  therefore 
owing  to  me  reward  from  thee.  And  now  the  Oree.ks 
have  banished  me  on  account  of  my  liking  for  thee, 
nevertheless  I  can  yet  do  thee  good  service.  Suffer 
me  to  tarry  a  year,  after  that  I  will  come  and  set 
forth  my  purpose  by  word  of  mouth," 

During  the  year  Themistocles  set  himself  to  learn 
the  Persian  language;  at  the  end  of  the  time  he 
visited  the  court,  and  laid  before  the  king  a  sclieme 
for  the  conquest  of  Greece.  The  king  on  the  other 
hand  treated  him  with  munificent  generosity.  Ho 
gave  him  a  Persian  wife,  and  the  revenues  of  three 
districts  for  his  support.  Magnesia,  where  he 
lived,  was  supposed  to  supply  him  with  bread, 
Myus  with  other  provisions,  and  Lampsacus  with 
wine.     The   amount   of  the   first   contribution    was 


100  TEAITOR    OR    PATRIOT? 

fifty   talents,*   that  of  the   others  we  do  not  know. 

Themistocles  seems  to  have  lived  at  Magnesia  for 
some  fifteen  or  sixteen  years.  During  that  time  he 
had  done  nothing,  probably  had  attempted  to  do 
nothing  towards  carrying  out  the  promise  which  he 
had  made  to  Artaxerxes.  According  to  Thucydides 
he  died  from  natural  causes  ;  the  historian,  however, 
mentions  a  tradition  that  he  poisoned  himself  because 
he  felt  himself  unable  to  carry  out  his  intentions. 
The  people  of  Magnesia  erected  a  splendid  monu- 
ment in  his  honour,  but  it  was  said  that  his  friends 
removed  his  remains,  and  buried  them  secretly  in 
Attic  soil. 

It  may  be  said  with  great  probability  that  Themis- 
tocles never  intended  to  do  serious  injury  to  Athens 
or  to  Greece.  He  was,  indeed,  shrewd  enough  to  see 
that  no  such  injury  was  possible.  So  far  he  may  be 
acquitted  of  treason ;  but  that  he  was  one  of  the 
most  unscrupulous  of  politicians  cannot  be  doubted. 
Proofs  of  this  have  already  been  given  in  this  chapter, 
another  is  to  be  found  in  the  amount  of  his  property, 
when  this  was  confiscated  after  his  flight  from  Argos. 
He  had  contrived  to  carry  off  much,  and  his  friends 
had  saved  for  him  as  much  more ;  nevertheless  what 
was  seized  realized  eighty,  or,  according  to  one 
account,  a  hundred  talents.  And  he  had  begun  life, 
we  are  told,  with  a  patrimony  of  three! 

•  More  than  £  10,000. 


CHAPTER  X. 

tN  THE  THEATRE  AT  ATHENS, 

DEMOCLES  to  Chromius  of  .Etna  *  greeting. 
So  far,  most  excellent  Chromius,  I  have  per- 
formed the  commissions  entrusted  to  me  with  success. 
You  must  know  that  Poseidon  favoured  us  with  calm 
seas  for  our  voyage,  and  that  the  Twin  Brethren 
sent  us  a  following  wind  from  the  very  start  to  the 

•  It  may  be  as  well  to  explain  that  at  the  time  to  which  this 
letter  is  supposed  to  belong  (469  B.C.)  the  name  of  iEtna  sig 
nified  the  town  of  Catana  (now  Catania),  very  near  the  foot  of 
Mount  ^tna.  Some  years  before  this  time  Hiero  of  Syracuse 
had  expelled  its  inhabitants  from  Catana,  planted  it  with 
colonists  of  his  own,  and  changed  its  name  to  ^tna,  while  he 
claimed  for  himself  the  title  of  Founder.  This  state  of  things 
lasted  for  fifteen  years.  Not  long  after  the  death  of  Hiero  the 
original  inhabitants  of  the  place  were  restored;  the  old  name 
was  given  to  it  again,  and  the  new  settlers  occupied  a  town 
belonging  to  the  native  Sicels,  called  Messa,  and  gave  it  the 
name  of  the  short-lived  city  from  which  they  had  been  expelled. 
The  place  remained  under  this  name  for  several  centuries,  and 
must  be  distinguished  from  the  old  town  with  its  temporary  title. 

101 


102  '        IN  THE  THEATRE  AT  ATHENS. 

end  of  our  sailing.  Nevertheless  it  was  by  the 
happiest  chance  that  we  escaped  a  most  formidable 
danger.  You  must  know  that  the  venerable  Thym- 
bron,  our  sailing  master— who  practises  the  art  of 
navigation  in  much  the  same  fashion,  I  imagine,  as 
it  was  practised  by  Tiphys*— positively  refused  to 
pass  through  the  Sicilian  strait.  He  believes  most 
firmly  in  Scylla  with  her  dogs  and  the  fatal  whirl- 
pool of  Charybdis,  though  no  sea-faring  man  since 
the  days  of  Ulysses  has  seen  either  the  one  or  the 
other.  Verily,  he  had  nearly  thrust  us  into  the  jaws 
of  a  far  more  formidable  monster  than  ever  was  the 
daughter  of  Nisus.  Scarcely  had  we  rounded  Cape 
Lilybaeum,  f  when  we  espied  a  ship  which  Thymbron 
at  once  declared  to  be  a  Carthaginian. 

It  wag  a  fifty-oar,  with  a  big  fore-and-aft  sail, 
and  as  we  could  plainly  see,  for  we  were  not  more 
than  eight  hundred  paces  away,  crowded  with  men. 
"Wo  are  lost,"  cried  our  supelt-cargo.  *  Not  so," 
said  old  Thymbron,  *  I  have  not  sailed  these  seas, 
man  and  boy,  for  seventy  years,  without  learning 
something,"  and  he  put  the  ship's  head  straight  for 
the  land.  It  seemed  a  mighty  dangerous  thing  to 
do,  for  the  aea  was  breaking  everywhere  on  rocks, 
either  just  hidden  under  the  water  or  shaving  a  foot 
or  so  above.     "Have  a  care,"  cried  the  supercargo, 

*  The  helmsman  of  the  Argo. 

t  The  extreme  westerly  point  of  the  island,  now  Capo  Boro. 


IN  THE  THEATRE  AT  ATHEN8.  103 

•  or  you  will  run  us  aground ;  •  and  he  seized  the 
old  man's  arm.  "Away,  you  fool!*  shouted  the  old 
man,  "I  know  what  I  am  about,  and,  anyhow,  it  is 
better  to  be  drowned  than  to  be  burnt  alive  in  honour 
of  Melkarth,  or  whatever  villainous  deity  those 
barbarians  are  pleased  to  worship.  *  Before  long  we 
saw  what  Thymbron  was  after.  There  was  a  deep 
pool  approached  by  a  narrow  channel  which  the  old 
man  knew,  and  we  in  it,  safe,  we  could  see,  from 
pursuit.  The  Carthaginian  tried  to  follow  us,  but  it 
had  not  gone  a  hundred  paces  before  the  captain, 
whom  we  could  see  standing  with  a  plumb-line  in 
the  bows,  gave  the  signal  to  back.  They  had  a 
narrow  escape  of  striking,  and  he  was  clearly  not 
minded  to  run  any  more  risk.  Then  they  tried  to 
reach  us  with  their  slings,  but  the  bullets  fell  far 
short,  and  they  were  only  wasting  their  time. 

They  did  not  stop  long,  for  the  wind  was  coming 
on  to  blow  from  the  East,  and  the  lee-shore  was 
dangerous.  Before  sunset  we  saw  the  last  of  them. 
Old  Thymbron  was  triumphant,  besides  getting  twenty 
gold  pieces  which  the  passengers  collected  for  him. 

We  reached  the  Corinthian  Gulf  without  any 
more  adventures,  and  landing  at  Crissa,  which  we 
found  to  be  little  better  than  a  heap  of  ruins, 
made  the  best  of  our  way  to  Delphi.  After  I  had 
performed  the  customary  sacrifice,  presenting  at 
the    same    time  the  gifts  with  which  you  entrusted 


104         IN  THE  THEATRE  AT  ATHENS. 

me,  a  voice  came  from  the  shrine  uttering  these  words : 

•  Thine  is  the  glory  of  battle  and  of  storm-footed  steeds ;  but  beware 
Of  the  day  when  the  brood  of  the  lion  shall  come  yet  again  to  his 

lair."  * 

The  next  day  using  the  mediation  of  Democrates 
my  host,  who  desired  me  to  give  you  assurances  of 
his  friendship,  I  approached  the  god  privately  and 
received  another  answer,  which  I  think  it  better  to 
reserve  for  your  own  ear.  From  Delphi  I  journeyed 
to  Thebes,  having  the  advantage  of  joining  a  strong 
company  of  Theban  citizens  who  were  on  their  way 
homeward.  The  people  who  dwell  in  these  parts — 
Phocians  they  call  them — have  a  somewhat  evil 
reputation,  being  said  to  rob  those  that  travel  to 
and  fro  from  the  shrine  of  Apollo.  I  saw  nothing 
of  them,  but  the  road,  overhung  in  many  places  with 
frightful  mountains,  is  but  too  well  suited  to  such  doings. 

Among  my  fellow-travellers  was  a  kinsman  of  the 
poet  Pindarus.  By  his  help  and  introduction  I  was 
able  to  transact  more  easily  the  business  on  which 
I  came.  I  should  not,  however,  in  any  case  have 
found  much  difficulty,  for  the  poet  greatly  admires 
things  Sicilian.  To  tell  the  truth,  he  is  but  ill  suited 
with  his  surroundings  of  Thebes.  The  state,  as  you 
know,  followed  the   worse  side  in  the  Persian  war, 

•  The  oracle  doubtless  referred  to  the  probable  return  of  the 
inhabitants  of  Catana  to  the  city  from  which  they  had  been 
expelled. 


IN  THE  THEATRE  AT  ATHENS.  lOo 

and  was  brought  thereby  into  no  little  discredit, 
which  is  shared  even  by  tliose  who,  as  was  the  case 
with  Pindarus,  had  no  part  in  the  evil  doing.  Thus 
it  has  come  to  pass  that  though  he  loves  his  country 
he  loves  not  his  countrymen,  and  still  less  is  he 
loved  by  them.  Hence  it  pleases  him  to  look  abroad 
for  those  whom  he  may  lawfully  honour  and  the 
further  removed  these  are,  the  safer  his  praise.  He 
has,  I  am  told,  been  fined  by  his  fellow-citizens  for 
speaking  well  of  his  neighbours  the  Athenians.  But 
of  us  Sicilians  there  is  no  jealousy,  as  there  is  no 
knowledge.  Indeed,  it  affronts  me  to  find  that  most 
nten  are  in  ignorance  concerning  us,  as  though  we 
were  barbarians.  But  to  my  business.  The  poet 
willingly  consents  to  write  an  Epinikion  *  for  the 
occasion  described.  He  was  well  pleased  with  the 
remuneration,  of  which  I  paid  him  at  your  desire  a 
fifth  part,  i.e.  ten  gold  pieces,  by  way  of  earnest. 
"All  men,"  said  he  with  a  smile,  "have  not  such 
faith   in  my  performance  ;  and  from  some  it  is  hard 

•  An  "Epinikion*  is  a  poem  composed  to  celebrate  some 
victory  at  the  games.  All  Pindar's  extant  poems  (with  one 
exception)  are  of  this  character.  The  particular  poem  referred 
to  here  is  numbered  ninth  among  the  Nemean  Odes,  i.e.  the 
odes  composed  to  celebrate  victories  won  at  the  games  held  at 
Nemea  in  Argolis.  As  a  matter  of  fact  the  occasion  had  nothing 
to  do  with  Nemea.  It  was  a  chariot-race  victory  won  at  SicyoD 
some  years  before. 


106         IN  THE  THEATRE  AT  ATHENS. 

to  obtain  the  reward  even  for  that  which  has  been 

finished.' 

And  now,  your  affairs,  most  worshipful  Chromius, 
being,  I  trust,  satisfactorily  completed,  I  have  some- 
thing more  to  write  which  you  will  read,  I  am  sure, 
not  without  interest. 

It  had  been  my  purpose  to  return  home  without 
delay  from  Thebes,  having  arranged  to  meet  the 
ship  which  brought  me  hither  at  Corinth,  where  the 
supercargo  had  business  to  transact.  But  Pindarus 
strongly  dissuaded  me  from  carrying  out  this  intention. 
"  Nay, "  said  he,  when  I  told  him  what  I  was  about 
to  do,  "  to  depart  from  this  land  without  seeing 
Athens  is  a  thing  not  to  be  thought  of.  Athens  is 
the  very  flower  of  Greece,  containing  in  itself  all 
that  is  most  noble  and  beautiful.  It  is  the  very 
home  of  the  Muses,  of  whom  we  that  dwell  in  other 
cities  cultivate,  according  to  our  powers,  this  one  or 
that,  but  they  the  whole  quire.  And,  indeed,  you 
are  fortunate  in  coming  at  this  time,  for  they  are 
about  to  keep  a  great  feast;  and  their  city,  always 
beautiful,  will  put  on  for  the  occasion  a  special 
splendour ! "  And  then  he  told  me  a  certain  history 
which  I  will  put  into  the  best  words  that  I  can 
command.     It  ran  thus: 

Theseus,  king  of  the  Athenians,  having  gone  down 
to  the  regions  of  the  dead  in  company  with  Peirithoiis, 
his     friend,     sought    to    carry    from    thence    Queen 


IK  THE  THEATRE  AT  ATHENS.         107 

Proserpine.  Then  these  two,  being  overtaken  on 
their  return,  were  condemned  to  a  perpetual  impri- 
sonment. After  a  while  Heracles  descending  to  this 
same  place,  saw  the  two.  Of  Peirithoiis  he  took  no 
account,  but  he  thought  it  shame  that  Theseus,  having 
done  so  great  things  on  earth,  should  so  suffer. 
Having,  therefore,  obtained  his  freedom  he  brought 
him  back  to  earth,  so  that  he  again  reigned  in  Athens. 
But  in  no  long  time,  the  people  not  liking  his  rule— 
and,  indeed,  it  may  be  well  believed  that  they  who 
might  come  back  from  the  dead  would  seldom  find 
welcome — Theseus  was  constrained  to  flee  from 
Attica  and  to  take  refuge  in  the  island  of  Scyros. 
There  he  was  treacherously  slain  by  king  Lycomedes. 

So  ran  the  story. 

Some  seven  years  since  the  Athenians  were  com- 
manded by  an  oracle  to  bring  back  the  bones  of 
Theseus.  This  they  were  hindered  from  doing  by 
various  causes,  but  now,  Cimon  having  captured  the 
island,  they  were  about  to  do.  This  I  heard  from 
Pindarus,  who,  at  the  same  time,  advised  me  not  to 
neglect  the  occasion. 

Truly  I  can  say  that  he  advised  me  well ;  a  more 
noble  sight  I  have  never  looked  upon.  Athens, 
having  been  made  aware  by  a  swift-sailing  pinnace 
that  the  sacred  ship  would  enter  the  harbour  at 
sunrise  on  the  morrow,  crowded  down  thither  to 
welcome     it.    By     the    kindness    of    your    friend i 


108  IN  THE  THEATRE  AT  ATHENS. 

Andocides,  who  desired  me  to  present  his  salutations 
to  you,  I  had  a  most  convenient  place  for  the 
spectacle,  heing  promoted  for  the  time  to  the  rank 
of  *a  distinguished  stranger." 

The  sun  was  just  showing  itself  out  of  the  sea 
when  the  sacred  ship — they  call  it  the  Salaminia,  in 
remembrance  of  the  great  battle — entered  the  har- 
bour. It  was  equipped  and  adorned  in  a  way 
altogether  worthy  of  its  mission.  The  sails,  intended, 
I  should  say,  for  ornament  rather  than  for  use, 
were  of  purple;  the  figure-head,  representing  the 
patron  goddess  of  the  city,  was  of  more  than  human 
size,  and  richly  gilded ;  the  officers  and  men  were 
clad  in  holiday  apparel  of  white,  the  steersman 
being  conspicuous  in  his  scarlet  cloak.  As  for  the 
oars,  of  which  there  were  nearly  four-score  on  either 
side,  they  were  dipped  into  the  water  and  rose  again 
with  absolute  regularity.  The  rowers  were  chosen, 
I  am  told,  with  special  care  from  the  most  respectable 
class  of  sea-faring  men.  Their  pay  is  one  drachma* 
by  the  day. 

So  soon  as  the  ship  had  been  made  fast  to  the 
quay  and  the  gangway  lowered,  one  of  the  magis- 
trates of  the  city,  by  title  the  King  Archon,  for  the 
Athenians,  though  they  have  long  since  driven  away 
their  kings,  yet  keep  this  name  for  the  officer  per- 

*  A.bout  qd.;  representing  a  considerably  larger  sum  in  modem 
currency. 


IH  THE  THEATEE  AT  ATHENS.  109 

forming  certain  sacred  duties,  came  forward  and  made 
a  set  oration.  In  this  he  welcomed  the  hero — re- 
turning, as  he  said,  to  his  city — recounted  the  benefits 
which  he  had  done  to  it  in  former  times,  and  besought 
him  to  regard  it  with  favour  in  the  days  to  come. 
This  done,  a  silver  chest,  containing  the  bones  of 
the  hero,  carried  by  poles  put  through  rings,  was 
brought  on  shore,  and  set  on  an  ox  waggon,  of  a. 
f?hape  curiously  ancient,  and  of  the  very  model,  they 
say,  first  made  by  Triptolemus.  *  It  was  drawn  by 
four  milk-white  heifers.  Behind  it  followed  the  priests 
of  the  various  temples  in  the  city,  headed  by  the 
King  Archon ;  after  them,  in  the  chief  place  of  honour 
came  Cimon  himself.  A  man  of  nobler  aspect  I  never 
saw.  He  was  of  a  commanding  stature,  being  four 
cubits  and  a  span  f  in  height,  his  face  ruddy  and  of  a 
most  benevolent  look,  his  hair  black  and  long,  so  that  it 
curled  about  his  shoulders.  The  magistrates  followed 
him,  according  to  their  rank,  and  behind  them  again 

•  Triptolemus  was,  according  to  the  legend,  son  of  Celeus, 
king  of  Eleusis,  one  of  the  regions  of  Attica.  Demeter,  hospit- 
ably entertained  by  his  father  in  her  search  for  her  lost  daughter 
Proserpine,  showed  her  gratitude  by  teaching  the  boy  the  secrets 
of  agriculture,  among  them  the  waggon,  or  as  Virgil  calls  it 
(Georg.  1.  163)  *The  Mighty  Mother's  slowly  moving  wain." 

t  This  would  make  not  quite  six  feet  four  inches.  The  *  span  " 
is  the  lesser  span  (in  Greek  lichas),  the  space  included  by  the 
outstretched  forefinger  and  the  thumb,  as  distinguished  from  the 
greater  span  i.e.  between  the  little  finger  and  the  thumb. 


110  IN  THE  THEATRB  AT  ATHENB. 

came  an  immense  multitude  of  citizens  and  aliens.  The 
chest  was  deposited,  with  many  ceremonies  which  it 
is  needless  to  describe  at  length,  in  a  temple,  newly- 
built  for  the  purpose,  and  called  by  the  name  of  the 
hero.  Not  only  is  this  dedicated  to  his  honour,  but 
it  also  serves  a  purpose  which  agrees  most  suitably 
with  his  character,  as  having  been  one  who  destroyed 
oppressors  and  delivered  them  that  were  oppressed. 
Here  will  slaves,  flying  from  masters  that  use  them 
cruelly,  and  freemen  of  a  mean  condition,  flying  from 
powerful  persons  whom  they  may  have  cause  to  fear, 
find  a  refuge. 

In  the  evening  I  was  by  special  favour  of  Ando- 
cides  invited  to  a  great  banquet  held  in  the  Town 
Hall.  Here  citizens  who  have  done  great  service  to 
the  state  have  free  entertainment.  Among  these  I 
saw  many  notable  persons,  captains  that  had  led 
ranks  at  Marathon  or  commanded  ships  at  Salamis, 
and  others.  Ambassadors  also  were  present  from 
Sparta  and  other  places,  and  envoys  from  the  islands 
which  are  in  alliance  with  Athens. 

On  the  day  following  I  saw  and  heard  that  which 
delighted  me  more  than  all  that  has  met  my  eyes 
and  ears  since  I  left  Mtna..  You  must  know  that 
among  the  many  honours  paid  to  Theseus,  thus 
restored,  as  is  said,  to  his  country,  was  a  dramatic 
contest.  At  this  three  writers  of  tragedies  competed; 
Chaerilus,    a    man   who    continues    to  write  even  in 


IM  THE  THEATRE  AT  ATHENS.  Ill 

extreme  old  age,  for  he  is  approaching  his  hundredth 
year,  ^Eschylus,  of  whom  it  is  needless  to  speak,  so 
well  are  you  acquainted  with  his  genius,  and  Sophocles, 
a  young  man  who  now  contended  for  the  prize  for 
the  first  time.  On  that  and  on  the  following  day, 
there  were  exhibited  nine  plays  in  all.  For  myself 
I  must  confess'  that  I  was  so  overpowered  by  what 
I  saw  and  heard  that  I  could  not  sit  out  the  whole. 
I  was  exhausted  rather  than  wearied.  To  keep  the 
mind  on  the  stretch  for  so  long  a  time  was  a  labour 
greater  than  bodily  exertion.  But  to  the  Athenians 
it  seemed  to  be  no  labour  at  all.  Even  the  women — 
for  not  a  few  women  were  present — sat  out  the 
performance  from  beginning  to  end  seemingly  un- 
wearied, and  were  as  eager  and  as  keen  in  their 
attention  at  the  last  as  at  the  first.  To  tell  how 
great  was  this  keenness  passes  all  my  powers  of 
describing.  Did  an  actor  make  so  much  as  an  awkward 
gesture  or  mispronounce  a  word  even  by  a  letter, 
there  went  up  a  roar  of  disapproval — many  times, 
I  must  confess,  I  did  not  perceive  the  cause,  which 
was  explained  to  me  by  my  companion — nor  was  the 
audience  less  vehement  in  its  approval.  Verily  these 
Athenians  are,  as  it  were,  a  nation  of  schoolmasters. 
One  of  the  tragedies  that  I  saw  I  will  venture  to 
describe  to  you  as  far  as  my  abilities  will  suffice. 
It  was  entitled  'Prometheus  Chained.*  The  scene 
when  the   curtain  was  lowered  showed  us  a  ravine 


112         IN  THE  THEATRE  AT  ATHENS. 

in  the  Caucasus,  to  the  precipitous  side  of  which 
Strength  and  Force  have  brought  the  Fire-God, 
Hephaestus,  to  carry  out  their  purpose.  Strength 
bids  the  divine  craftsman  begin  his  task — his  com- 
panion, I  should  say,  is  silent  throughout,  looking  on 
with  a  stern,  unpitying  face.  The  god  confesses  his 
duty  but  owns  that  it  is  sorely  against  his  will  to 
do  it,  for  he  knows  that  it  is  a  long  and  dreary 
punishment  to  which  he  is  consigning  the  prisoner. 
•  Here, "  he  says — 

"Man's  voice  thou  shalt  not  hear  nor  see  his  face; 
Here  day  by  day  the  blazing  sun  shall  scorch 
Thy  fair  skin's  beauty;  here  thy  heart  shall  long 
For  starry-kirtled  night  to  hide  the  day, 
And  for  the  day  returning  to  dispel 
The  morning's  chilling  frost.* 

"The  deliverer,"  he  goes  on  to  say,  *  is  yet  unborn, 
and  Zeus  it  not  apt  to  chanire  his  purpose,  for 
"Power  newly  won  is  ever  stem  of  mood." 

This   pitiful   mood  Strength   will    not  away   with, 
nor    does    he    respect    the    plea    of   kinship    which 
Hephaestus   puts   forth.     It   may    be   hard   to    put  it 
aside,  but  it  is  harder  to  incur  the  wrath  of  Zeus. 
"0  much  detested  craft  of  skilful  hand!* 

the  Fire-God  exclaims,  and  so  proceeds  to  his 
task,  compassing  the  prisoner's  limbs  with  chains 
and  driving  the  rivet  through  his  breast.  All  the 
while    Strength   urges  him  on,  bidding  him   do  his 


IN  THE  THEATRE  AT  ATHENS.         11 '3 

work  80  strongly  that  all  the  captive's  art  cannot 
undo  it.  When  all  is  done  the  ruthless  minister  of 
Zeus  turns  away  with  a  taunting  farewell. 

"Here  nurse  thy  swelling  pride;  here  stealing  gifts 
That  dower  the  gods  give  them  to  mortal  men, 
To  men  that  cannot  help  thee  in  thy  woe, 
Fore-thinker  falsely  called,  who  needest  sore 
Fore-thought  to  free  thee  from  these  artful  chains !  * 

All  this  time  the  Titan  has  remained  silent. 
N»nther  taunts  nor  violence  have  availed  to  wring  a 
single  word  from  him.  Now,  when  he  finds  himself 
alone  he  breaks  out: 

*0h!  firmament  of  heaven!  Oh!  swift- winged  winds! 
Oh!  river-fountains  and  the  laugh  of  waves 
Beyond  all  number;  and  Thou,  Mother  Earth, 
And  Thou,  all-seeing  Sun,  behold  the  woes 
I  suffer,  I,  a  god,  of  gods  oppressed." 

As  he  continues  to  lament  his  lot,  though  not 
without  the  comfort,  such  as  it  is,  of  knowing  how 
it  will  end,  a  sound  strikes  his  ear.  "  What  is  this 
light  whirr  of  wings?"  he  asks  himself, 

'I  see  in  all  that  comes  new  cause  of  fear.* 

Scarcely  has  he  spoken  when  the  new-comers 
appear.  They  are  the  Ocean-nymphs,  who  have 
come,  putting  aside  their  maiden  bashfulness,  from 
their  father's  halls,  to  show  the  pity  that  they  feel 
for  his  woes.     This  pity  and  an  equal  anger  against 

8 


114  IN  THE  THEATRE  AT  ATHENS. 

the  power  that  oppresses  him,  they  express  in 
indignant  words,  and  they  entreat  the  prisoner  tu 
tell  his  story.  Prometheus  consents.  There  had 
been  war  in  heaven,  and  he,  seeing  that  the  oldei 
gods  were  bent  on  compassing  their  own  ruin,  had 
ranged  himself  on  the  side  of  Zeus,  and  so  brought 
about  his  victory.  But  Zeus  had  been  ungrateful, 
a  thing  not  to  be  wondered  at — 

'This  is  the  vice  of  kingship  that  it  keeps 
Mistrust  of  friends." 

You  should  have  heard,  worshipful  Chromius,  the 
roar  of  applause  which  went  up  from  the  whole 
theatre  when  these  words  were  uttered.  Would 
they  have  been  as  well  received,  think  you,  in 
Syracuse?  That  I  know  not,  but  it  is  certain  that 
they  would  never  have  been  spoken.  *  He  went  on 
to  say  that,  setting  his  new  kingdom  in  order,  Zeus 
had  taken  no  thought  of  man,  had  even  designed  to 
destroy  the  race.  Prometheus  only  had  interposed 
between  him  and  the  unhappy  ones.  He  had  given 
them  gifts  which  made  life  worth  having,  the  gift 
of  hope,  blinding  them  to  the  future,  the  gift  of 
fire,  by  which  all  the  arts  are  made  possible. 

Before  the  Titan  had  finished  his  story,  another 
character  appears  upon  the  scene.     This  is  Oceanus, 

*  They  would,  of  course,  have  been  •  severe  reflection  on 
the  government  of  Hiero. 


IN  THE  THEATRE  AT  ATHENS.         115 

father  of  the  nymphs,  who  comes  in  a  chariot  drawn 
by  a  winged  gryphon.  Friendship  and  ties  of 
kindred  have  brought  him,  he  says,  and  he  desires 
to  give  the  sufferer  all  the  help  he  can.  The  help 
is  prudent  advice.  Let  Prometheus  submit  himself 
to  Zeus.  This  advice  the  Titan  rejects.  He  had 
known  beforehand  what  to  expect,  for  he  had  seen 
others  suffering  from  the  wrath  of  Zeus,  Atlas,  and 
Typhon — Typhon  on  whom  the  weight  of -^tna  had  been 
placed.  But  he  will  not  suffer  wholly  unavenged, 
for  from  his  prison-house 

'In  times  to  come  great  streams  of  fire  shall  bunl 
The  fruitful  fair  Sicilia's  golden  plains 
With  angry  jaws  devouring* — 

a  prophecy  of  which  none  knew  the  terrible  ful- 
filment better  than  we  citizens  of  iEtna. 

Oceanus,  finding  his  advice  rejected,  departs,  and 
Prometheus  describes  to  the  listening  nymphs  what 
he  had  done  for  men.  It  was  he  who  had  taught 
them  how  to  live  as  reasonable  creatures,  to  change 
the  caves  and  holes  of  the  earth,  in  which  they  had 
found  shelter,  for  houses  of  brick  and  wood.  He 
had  shown  them  certain  signs  of  the  coming  of  the 
seasons,  making  them  know  the  rising  and  setting 
of  the  stars.  Number,  he  had  taught  them  and 
memory,  which  is  the  mother  of  knowledge.  He  had 
tamed  the  horse  for  them,  to  the  great  use  and 
ornament  of  life,   and   he  had  shown  them  how  to 


116  IN  THK  THEATRE  AT  ATHENS. 

traverse  the  sea  in  ships,  healing  arts  also  and  the 
gift  of  prophecy. 

The  next  figure  that  appeared  upon  the  stage  was 
another  victim  of  Zeus,  lo  the  daughter  of  Inachus. 
She  comes  in  the  shape  of  a  heifer  with  the  face  of 
a  woman,  for  into  this  similitude  she  has  been  changed 
by  the  jealous  wrath  of  Here.  Behind  her  follows 
close  the  spectre  of  Argus,  and  a  monstrous  gadfly 
was  seen  to  have  fastened  on  her  flanks.  As  the 
creature  came  in  with  "  skippings  unseemly/  as  the 
poet  himself  puts  it,  many  of  the  spectators  laughed, 
for  these  Athenians  have  an  unconquerable  passion 
for  jesting  and  mirth,  so  that  they  do  not  spare 
even  sacred  things.  This,  it  seemed  to  me,  somewhat 
marred  the  success  of  the  play ;  nor  was  that  which 
followed  wholly  suitable  to  the  audience,  if,  indeed,  I 
may  presume  to  judge  of  such  things.  For  the  Titan 
told  her  in  many  words  of  the  strange  places  and 
things  which  she  would  see  in  her  wanderings,  and 
these,  I  could  perceive,  somewhat  wearied  tlie  listen- 
ers. Their  mood,  indeed,  changes  very  speedily,  and 
they  show  their  disliking  as  readily  as  they  show 
their  pleasure.  In  truth,  the  whole  drama  is  somewhat 
wanting  in  action,  a  defect  which  counts  for  much 
with  the  majority.  Nothing,  indeed,  could  be  nobler 
and  of  a  higher  dignity  than  the  conclusion  which, 
lest  my  long  writing  should  weary  you,  I  will  now 
describe. 


.ESCHYLUS. 
From  a  Bust  in  the  Capitoline  Museum  at  Rome. 


IN  THE  THEATRE  AT  ATHENS.  117 

lo  having  departed,  Prometheus  declares  in  no 
uncertain  words  that  Zeus  himself  will  be  hurled 
down  from  his  throne.  Thereupon  comes  Hermes 
the  messenger,  demanding  of  him  that  he  should 
reveal  the  secret  of  how  these  things  should  come 
to  pass.  The  Titan  will  not  yield  one  jot,  no,  not 
to  threats  of  storm  and  earthquake  and  of  the  eagle 
that  will  be  sent  to  devour  his  living  flesh.  He  is 
obstinately  silent,  and  the  nymphs  show  themselves 
as  constant  as  he;  they  choose  rather  to  share  his 
fate  than  to  save  themselves  by  departing.  And  so, 
while  the  mountains  seemed  to  reel  and  totter  all 
around,  and  the  lightnings  flashed,  and  the  thunder 
roared,  coming  nearer  and  nearer,  the  curtain  rose, 
the  last  thing  that  we  saw  being  the  figure  of  the 
chained  Prometheus  standing  erect  and  undismayed 
in  the  midst  of  all  the  growing  terrors  of  the  hour. 

It  will  not,  it  may  be,  surprise  you,  after  what  I 
have  said,  that  iEschylus  did  not  win  the  first  prize. 
In  truth,  while  his  tragedies — for  there  were  two 
others  performed  at  the  same  time — did  not  attract 
the  vulgar,  they  did  not  wholly  please  the  more 
serious.  "He  says  strange  things,  methinks,"  I 
heard  one  grave  senator  say  to  another.  "  Are  we 
to  think  that  the  older  gods  were  better  than  the 
new?"  The  prize,  accordingly,  was  given  to  this 
young  Sophocles  of  whom  I  have  spoken.  The  old 
poet  is,  I  hear,   so  displeased  with  his  countrymen 


118         DT  THE  THEATRE  AT  ATHENS. 

that  he  purposes  to  leave  Athens  for  ever.  May  I 
suggest  to  you,  most  excellent  Chromius,  that  to 
invite  him  to  ^tna  would  be  a  most  wise  and 
reasonable  act?  He  has  already  visited  our  island, 
and  in  a  conversation  which  I  had  with  him  this 
morning,  spake  of  it  and  its  inhabitants  with  much 
kindness  and  pleasing  recollection.  Our  new  city 
could  not  have  ft  greater  ornament 


CHAPTER  XL 

A  MODEL  ARISTOCRAT. 

THE  career  of  the  victor  of  Marathon  ended  ip 
disaster  and  disgrace.  Presuming  on  his  un- 
bounded popularity,  he  asked  from  the  Public  Assembly 
the  sole  conduct  of  an  expedition,  which  he  pledged 
himself  to  use  to  the  great  advantage  of  the  State. 
No  one  was  to  know  whither  it  was  to  go,  or  whai, 
it  was  to  do.  Everything  was  to  be  left  to  his 
unfettered  discretion.  A  considerable  force  was  raised, 
and  put  under  his  orders.  He  sailed  with  it  to  the 
Island  of  Pares.  Whether  he  hoped  to  exact  a 
ransom  which  would  enrich  the  public  treasury  or, 
as  was  afterwards  alleged,  to  avenge  some  private 
wrong,  we  do  not  know.  Anyhow,  the  attempt 
failed.  The  Parians  refused  to  pay  the  hundred 
talents  demanded  of  them.  Ultimately  Miltiades  had 
to  return,  unsuccessful  and  broken-down  in  health 
by  a  dangerous  injury  to  one  of  his  thighs.  He  was 
tried,   found    guilty,  and  sentenced  to  pay  a  fine  of 

lit 


120  A    MODEL    ARISTOCRAT. 

fifty  talents.  Whether,  in  default  of  payment,  he  was 
thrown  into  prison,  is  not  certain.  He  did  not  long 
survive  his  disgrace. 

The  career  of  his  son  Cimon,  the  'model  Aris- 
tocrat," had,  therefore,  an  ill-omened  beginning.  He 
inherited  his  father's  liabilities  and,  according  to  one 
account,  was  thrown  into  prison  till  he  paid  the  fine. 
The  money  was  furnished,  we  are  told,  by  Callias, 
an  Athenian  noble,  who  married  Cimon's  sister 
Elpinice.  Why  Cimon,  who  appears  to  have  been 
wealthy,  did  not  pay  it  himself,  it  is  not  easy 
to  say. 

His  first  public  appearance  was  on  the  eve  of  the 
abandonment  of  Athens,  by  its  inhabitants.  All  the 
able-bodied  population  made  the  fleet  their  home — 
the  non-combatants  had  already  been  put  in  safety — 
and  Cimon  headed  a  company  of  wealthy  citizens, 
whose  assessment  to  the  State  entitled  them  to  serve 
as  horse-soldiers,  when  they  came  to  hang  up  in  the 
temple  of  Athen^  their  useless  bridles.  After  the 
defeat  of  the  Persians,  Cimon  commanded,  in  com- 
bination with  Aristides,  the  Athenian  contingents  to 
the  allied  Greek  forces,  which  for  several  years 
carried  on  hostilities  against  Persia.  The  irreproach- 
able conduct  and  demeanour  of  the  two  com- 
manders, so  strongly  contrasting  with  the  rapacity, 
profligacy,  and  arrogance  of  the  Spartan  Pausanias,  did 
much  to  strengthen  Athenian  influence.     Cimon's  first 


A     MODEL    ARISTOCRAT.  121 

exploit  was  the  capture  of  Eion,  a  stronghold  on  the 
coast  of  Thrace,  after  a  desperate  resistance  by  the 
Persian  Governor  Boges.  This  took  place  probably 
about  478  ;  in  469  occurred  the  incident  described 
in  the  last  chapter,  the  conquest  of  Scyros  and  the 
*  translation  "  of  the  re^nains  of  Theseus  ;  in  465  Cimon 
won  a  great  victory  near  the  mouth  of  the  river  Eury- 
medas.*  A  Persian  fleet,  mainly  consisting  of  Phoe- 
nician ships,  was  attacked  by  the  allied  Greeks  and 
entirely  destroyed.  Ciraon  then  landed  his  troops, 
and  attacked  and  stormed  the  enemy's  camp.  This 
done,  he  set  sail  to  meet  an  expected  reinforcement 
of  eighty  Phoenician  ships,  encountered  them  near 
the  island  of  Cyprus,  and  sank  them  all.  An  immense 
amount  of  spoil  was  obtained,  and  Cimon  returned 
to  Athens  in  triumph. 

It  was  probably  at  this  time  that  the  poet  Ion, 
an  Athenian  citizen  though  born  in  Chios,  made  the 
acquaintance  of  the  model  aristocrat,  and  recorded 
his  impressions  in  his  "Memoirs."  The  work  itself 
has  unfortunately  been  lost,  but  Plutarch,  who  had 
it  before  him  when  writing  his  "  Lives, "  has  pi-eserved 
some  interesting  extracts  from  it.  It  is  from  Ion 
that  we  get  the  interesting  sketch  of  Cimon's  per- 
sonal   appearance.f     He    describes  the   great    man's 

*  Now  the  Capri  Sea,  flowing  into  the  Gulf  of  Alalia  on  the 
southern  coast  of  Asia  Minor, 
t  See  p.  109.     The  "long  hair  curling  about  his  shoulders* 


122  A    MODEL   ARISTOCRAT. 

manners  as  genial  and  pleasant,  giving,  as  proof,  that 
he  was  willing  to  play  and  sing  for  entertainment 
of  the  company — it  was  at  supper  that  Ion  made 
his  acquaintance.  This  was  contrasted  by  the  guests 
with  the  more  austere  manners  of  Themistocles,  who 
did  not  possess,  or  certainly  would  not  exhibit,  these 
accomplishments.  He  had  busied  himself,  not  with  these 
graceful  arts,  but  with  making  Athens  richer  and  more 
powerful,  a  piece  of  self-assertion  which,  it  is  easy 
to  imagine,  his  acquaintance  would  resent.  The 
conversation  naturally  turning  on  Cimon^s  military 
exploits,  he  related  an  incident  which  did  more  cre- 
dit, he  thought,  to  his  perspicacity,  than  anything 
else  in  his  career.  A  vast  quantity  of  booty  having 
fallen  into  the  hands  of  the  allied  Greeks  at  the 
capture  of  Sestos  and  Byzantium,  the  question  of 
the  division  arose.  It  consisted  of  prisoners  and 
property.     The  latter,  as  being  of  a  value  that  could 

suggests  an  interesting  suggestion  in  connection  with  Gimon's 
political  position.  The  hair  was  worn  short  by  Athenian  citizens 
in  general,  but  the  higher  classes  had  the  conventional  privilege 
of  wearing  it  long.  Still  the  practice  was  looked  upon  with  a 
certain  suspicion.  *  To  wear  the  hair  long  *  (expressed  by  the 
single  word  Kom&n)  was  about  equivalent  for  "to  give  oneself 
.lirs."  The  phrase  had  a  still  more  sinister  significance.  Hero 
(lotus  speaking  of  Cylon,  a  noble  Athenian  in  the  latter  part 
of  the  sixth  century,  and  wishing  to  express  that  he  had  schemes 
for  making  himself  despot,  says,  to  translate  his  words  literally, 
*he  grew  his  hair  long  with  the  tyranny  in  his  thoughts.* 


A    MODEL  ARISTOCRAT.  123 

be  promptly  realized,  seemed,  to  most  of  the  claimants, 
the  more  desirable.  Cimon  earned  the  good  opinion 
of  the  allies  by  cheerfully  conceding  it  to  them.  In 
a  short  time,  however,  it  became  evident  that  his 
choice  had  been  a  wise  one,  quite  apart  from  its 
conciliating  effect.  Relations  and  friends  of  the  pri- 
soners thronged  to  the  camp  in  the  hope  of  ransoming 
them,  and  the  sums  thus  paid  far  exceeded  the  value 
of  the  property.  It  is  probably  Ion  who  preserved 
other  traits  in  Cimon's  character  and  way  of  life 
His  hereditary  wealth  had,  of  course,  been  largely 
increased  by  his  share  of  the  prize-money  earned  in 
a  long  series  of  successful  struggles  with  the  Per- 
sians. These  riches  he  used  with  the  most  profuse 
liberality.  His  gardens  were  thrown  open  to  the 
public.  Everyone  was  at  liberty  to  help  himself  at 
his  pleasure  to  the  fruits  grown  in  them.  His  own 
table  was  furnished  in  the  most  frugal  way,  but  he 
kept  open  house,  according  to  one  account,  for  all 
citizens  who  might  choose  to  avail  themselves  of  his 
hospitality,  more  probably  for  members  of  his  own 
tribe,  or,  it  may  be,  township.  When  he  walked 
through  the  city  a  retinue  of  young  Athenians  attended 
him,  who  were  instructed  to  exchange  their  cloaks 
with  any  poorly-clad  citizen  of  mature  years,  whom 
they  might  happen  to  meet.  Others  carried  bags  of 
coin  with  which  they  relieved  the  wants  of  the  poor, 
putting  the  money,  we  are  told,  unostentatiously  into 


124  A     MODEL    ARISTOCRAT. 

their  hands.  Probably  this  bounty  was  not  altogether 
without  an  ulterior  object.  The  famous  Gorgias  was 
not  far  wrong  when  he  said  of  Cimon  that  he  gained 
money  in  order  to  use  it,  and  used  it  in  order  to 
gain  power.  Personal  aggrandizement  was  not  his 
aim,  but  he  was  a  keen  politician.  He  had,  it  is 
probable,  much  to  do  with  the  ostracism  of  Themis- 
tocles.  In  the  matter  of  the  Areopagus,  the  Supreme 
Court,  as  it  may  be  roughly  called,  he  took  the 
unpopular  side,  stoutly  defending  its  prerogatives 
against  the  attacks  of  the  democratic  party.  In 
foreign  policy  he  was  decidedly  a  friend  of  Sparta. 
His  idea  was  to  divide  the  headship  of  Greece 
between  his  own  country  and  its  great  rival.  When 
the  Helots  revolted  (B.C.  464)  and  threatened  the 
very  existence  of  Sparta,  Cimon  strongly  pleaded 
that  the  request  for  help  which  this  city  addressed 
to  Athens  should  be  granted.  "  Do  not, "  he  said— 
it  is  Ion  who  has  preserved  his  words — "suffer 
Hellas  to  be  lamed  of  one  leg,  and  Athens  to 
draw  without  her  yoke-fellow. "  The  appeal  was 
successful,  and  a  contingent  was  sent.  Unhappily 
the  Spartans,  possibly  because  they  had  on  their 
consciences  a  secret  treaty  adverse  to  Athens,  con- 
ceived suspicion  of  their  allies,  refused  to  accept  their 
services,  and  sent  them  home  in  disgrace.  All  Athens 
was  furious  at  the  affront ;  Cimon  was  considered,  even 
by  his  friends,  to  have  gone  beyond  due  limits  of  pru- 


A    MODEL   ARISTOCRAT.  125 

dence,  and  lost,  in  consequence,  something  of  his 
popularity.  We  are  not,  therefore,  surprised  to  find 
that  in  457  he  suffered  the  fate  of  his  great  rival 
Themistocles,  and  was  ostracized. 

A  few  weeks  after  his  banishment,  the  hostile  feeling, 
which  had  been  growing  in  intensity  for  some  time, 
between  Athens  and  Sparta,  broke  out  into  open  war. 
A  Spartan  army  which  had  been  sent  on  an  expe- 
dition into  northern  Greece,*  took  up  a  position  at 
Tanagra,  near  the  Boeotian  border.  It  was  believed 
that  its  purpose  was  to  assist  the  oligarchical  party 
in  Athens  to  overthrow  their  democratic  rivals.  Nor 
is  it  unlikely  that  some  of  Cimon's  less  discreet  or 
high-principled  followers,  enraged  at  the  fall  of  their 
chief,  were  willing  to  look  for  foreign  help.  This 
was  not  Cimon's  feeling.  He  begged  to  be  allowed 
to  serve,  exile  though  he  was,  with  the  troops  sent 
out  to  attack  the  Spartans.  The  request  was  refused. 
He  turned  to  his  friends  and  begged  them  to  vindicate 
his  patriotism.  A  hundred  of  them  carried  his  armour 
into  the  thickest  of  the  fight,  and  fell  round  it  to 
the  last  man. 

Before  the  five  years  of  his  ostracism  were  over, 
Cimon  was  recalled,  on  the  motion  of  Pericles 
himself,    who   had  now   become   the    leader   of  the 

*  It  had  gone  to  protect  the  little  mountain  community  of 
Doris,  the  mother  state,  it  was  supposed,  of  all  the  Dorian 
cities,  against  the  attacks  of  their  Phocian  neighbours. 


126  A    MODEL   ARISTOCRAT. 

democratic  party.  This  was  in  453.  In  450  Cimon 
took  a  part  in  bringing  about  a  five  years'  truce  with 
Sparta.  The  next  year  he  led  a  powerful  expedition, 
numbering  no  less  than  two  hundred  ships,  to  Cyprus. 
There  he  died,  whether  of  a  wound  received  in  the 
siege  of  a  Cyprian  town,  or  of  disease,  is  not  known. 
After  his  death  the  Athenians  won  a  signal  victory 
over  the  combined  Cilician  and  Phoenician  fleets, 
followed  within  a  day  or  two  by  a  great  success  on 
land.  The  conquerors  liked  to  believe  that  they 
received  the  inspiration  of  an  irresistible  courage, 
from  the  fact  that  they  were  carrying  home  for  its 
funeral  honours  the  embalmed  remains  of  their  great 
commander.  The  end  of  Cimon's  life  may  be  said 
to  mark  the  culminating  point  of  Athenian  power. 
And  it  was  the  great  merit  of  Cimon  that  Athenian 
greatness  did  not  mean  the  depression  of  other  Greek 
states.  He  realized,  more  perhaps  than  any  other 
Greek  statesman,  the  unity  of  the  Hellenic  racaw 


PERICLES. 
From  a  Bust  in  the  Vatican. 


CHAPTER  Xn. 

A  STATESMAN  AND  HIS  FRIENDA 

PERICLES  is  the  most  striking,  though  not,  perhaps, 
the  most  admirable  figure  in  Greek  history. 
The  date  of  his  birth  is  not  known,  but  it  was 
certainly  early  in  the  fifth  century,  and  may  be 
conjecturally  assigned  to  the  year  495.  It  was  some- 
where about  469  that  he  took  part  for  the  first 
time  in  public  affairs;  the  occasion  is  unknown,  but 
he  died  in  the  autumn  of  429,  and  his  political  life 
lasted,  we  are  told,  for  forty  years. 

As  I  am  not  writing  a  history  of  Greece,  or  even 
a  biography  of  Pericles,*  I  need  not  narrate  the 
events  of  the  earlier  part  of  this  period.  It  will 
suffice  to  say  that  the  assassination  of  Ephialtes  in 
453,  left  him  the  acknowledged  head  of  the  demo- 
cratic party.     Ephialtes  had  not  a  tenth  part  of  his 

*  Told  at  length  and  very  well  by  Mr.  Evelyn  Abbott  in 
•  Pericles  "  in  the  series  of  *  Heroes  of  the  Nations.  *  (G.  P. 
Putnam's  Sons.) 


128  A   STATESMAN    AND    HIS    FlilENDS. 

genius,  but  he  was  a  man  of  more  popular  manners 
and  better  suited  than  his  high-born  colleague  to 
play  the  part  of  a  democratic  leader,  and  had  he 
lived  he  might  have  continued  to  hold  the  first  place 
in  public  esteem.  On  the  other  hand  the  death  of 
Ciraon  in  449,  while  it  threw  the  leadership  of  the 
aristocratic  party  into  feebler  hands,  left  Pericles 
beyond  all  question  the  most  distinguished  person  in 
Athens.  This  rank  he  continued  to  hold  for  the 
last  twenty  years  of  his  life.  His  popularity  varied ; 
sometimes  it  was  all  that  he  could  do  to  hold  his 
own  against  his  enemies ;  but  he  never  ceased  for  a 
moment  to  be  the  greatest  man  in  the  country. 

It  was  not  long  before  his  statesmanship  was 
severely  tried.  The  supremacy  which  Athens  had 
established  over  Boeotia  was  destroyed  by  the 
disastrous  defeat  of  Coronea.  A  few  months  after- 
wards Euboea  revolted,  and  without  Euboea  as  a 
granary  Athens  could  hardly  exist ;  Megara  ex- 
pelled the  Athenian  garrison,  and  to  crown  all,  the 
Spartans,  under  the  command  of  their  king  Pleistoa- 
nax,  invaded  Attica.  Pericles,  who  had  been  sent  to 
reduce  Euboea,  hurried  back  to  Athens.  His  return 
was  followed  by  the  retreat  of  the  Spartan  army. 
There  is  very  little  doubt  that  the  king  or  his 
adviser  was  persuaded  of  the  necessity  for  this 
movement  by  a   bribe.  *    It  is  recorded  that  when 

*  See  p.  158. 


A   STATESMAN   AND  HIS   FRIENDS.  129 

Pericles  came  to  pass  his  accounts  he  refused  to 
explain  how  he  had  expended  a  certain  sum.  He 
had  devoted  it,  he  said,  to  a  "necessary  purpose," 
and  the  people,  among  whom  the  bribery  was 
probably  an  open  secret,  accepted  the  statement. 
The  danger  past,  he  returned  to  Euboea,  reduced  the 
whole  island  to  submission  in  a  very  short  time, 
and  settled  its  future  relations  to  Athens  on  terms 
highly  advantageous  to  the  ruling  state. 

Early  in  449  peace  was  concluded  with  Sparta, 
and  Pericles  had  leisure  to  devote  himself  to  domestic 
politics.  He  began  by  doing  on  a  large  scale  what 
Cimon  had  sought  to  do  by  private  munificence — he 
won  the  hearts  of  the  poorer  citizens.  For  many, 
provision  was  made  by  allotments  of  land  in  Euboea 
and  elsewhere;  many  more,  about  five  thousand  in 
all,  derived  a  regular  income  from  serving  on  juries. 
Various  courts  of  law  had  taken  over  most  of 
the  jurisdiction  of  the  Areopagus,  and  the  jurymen 
that  sat  in  them  were  now  paid.  A  vast  system  of 
public  works  was  also  carried  out.  Pericles  devoted 
the  surplus  income  that  came  in  from  the  ConfeJeracy 
of  Delos  *  to  the  adornment  of  the  city.  Athens 
assumed  an  appearance  of  splendour  such  as  no  other 
town  in  Greece  could  rival ;  the  expenditure  set  a  large 
amount  of  money  in  circulation,  while  the  strangers 
who  thronged  to  it  brought  no  small  contribution  of 

•  See  Chapter  XV. 

9 


130  A   STATESMAN    AND    HIS    FRIENDS. 

wealth.  Even  the  pleasures  of  the  people  were  pro- 
vided for.  The  drama  was  the  favourite  amusement 
of  Athens;  the  expenses  of  the  theatre  were  defrayed 
out  of  the  charge  made  for  tickets  of  admission,  but 
that  none  might  be  debarred  from  this  pleasure  by 
poverty,  every  citizen  was  entitled  to  an  allowance 
sufficient  for  the  purchase  of  a  ticket.  In  443  the 
aristocrats  made  an  effort  to  overthrow  their  great 
adversary.  An  ostracism  was  proposed  and  accepted ; 
but  the  result  was  a  disastrous  disappointment.  It 
was  their  own  leader  who  had  to  go  into  exile. 

Peace  at  home  naturally  led  to  enterprise  abroad. 
Pericles  found  occupation  for  the  adventurous  spirits 
at  Athens,  and  for  those  who  for  various  reasons 
desired  a  fresh  start  in  a  new  country,  in  the  foun- 
dation of  the  Italian  colony  of  Thurii.  Of  this  I 
shall  speak  in  a  subsequent  chapter.  Wilder  schemes 
of  adventure — and  there  were  dreams  of  conquest  in 
Africa  and  Sicily— he  steadily  discouraged.  In  439 
a  formidable  attempt  on  the  part  of  Samos  to  assert 
its  independence  was  crushed.  Samos  was  the  most 
powerful  member,  after  Athens,  of  the  Delian  Con- 
federacy, and  its  complete  subjugation  greatly  strength- 
ened the  position  of  the  Imperial  city.  The  operation 
was  conducted  throughout,  and,  it  would  seem,  most 
skilfully  conducted,  by  Pericles.  Scarcely  less  impor- 
tant was  the  foundation  during  the  years  437 — 435  of 
colonies  on  the  northern  coast  of  the  ^gean.     This 


A    S'lAlEsMAA    AWD    HIS    JJ'KIENDS.  131 

sea  had  now  become,  to  adapt  a  phrase  in  modern 
politics,  an  "Athenian  Lake."  A  footing  was  also 
obtained  on  the  western  coast  of  Mainland  Greece. 
The  Acarnanians,  a  half-barbarous  tribe,  but  possessing 
excellent  military  qualities,  became  allies  of  Athens. 

All  this  time,  however,  there  was  a  steady  growth 
at  home  of  hostility  towards  the  great  statesman. 
The  aristocrats  had  never  forgiven  him ;  the  extreme 
faction  among  the  democrats  were  not  satisfied  with 
his  rate  of  advance.  A  coalition,  implying,  of  course, 
no  real  sympathy  beyond  a  common  dislike  of  the 
object  of  their  attack,  was  formed  between  thetwo. 
But  the  attack  was  not  levelled  against  the  man  himself; 
his  position  was  too  assured  to  give  any  prospect 
of  success:  it  was  directed  against  his  friends. 

Foremost  among  the  artists  whose  genius  Pericles 
had  employed  to  embellish  his  native  city  was  the 
sculptor  Pheidias.  Among  his  works  was  the  mag- 
nificent statue  of  the  Virgin  Athen^  set  Up  in  the 
newly-built  temple  of  the  Parthenon.*  It  was  thirty- 
eight  feet  high,  and  was  of  wood,  overlaid  with  gold  and 

*  Pheidias  made  various  statues  of  Athen^.  One  of  gold  and 
ivory  was  executed  for  Pellene,  one  of  the  twelve  Achaean 
towns.  Another  was  erected  on  the  battle-field  of  PlataBa. 
This  was  of  colossal  size,  the  body  being  constmcted  of  wood, 
while  the  hands,  feet  and  face  were  of  marble  from  Pentelicns. 
A  third  was  of  bronze,  also  colossal  in  size,  which  stood  on  the 
Acropolis.  It  is  of  this  that  Pausanias  says  :  *  The  spear-point  of 
this    Athene,    and   the  plume  of  her  helmet   are  visible  from 


132  A   STATESMAN   AND    HIS   FRIENDS. 

ivory.  Pheidias  was  now  accused  of  having  embezzled 
some  of  these  precious  substances.  On  this  charge, 
however,  he  was  able  to  give  a  triumphant  refutation. 
At  the  suggestion  of  Pericles  he  had  so  arranged  the 
covering  materials  that  they  could  be  easily  removed. 
This  was  now  done;  they  were  weighed,  and  found 
to  exactly  agree  with  the  amount  of  materials  handed 
over  to  the  sculptor.  But  his  enemies  had  another 
resource.  Among  the  figures  on  the  shield  of  the 
goddess  were  found  portraits  of  the  artist  and  of  his 
patron.  This  was  made  the  ground  of  a  charge  of 
impiety;  the  sculptor  was  thrown  in  prison,  where 
he  was  found  dead — by  what  means  was  never  known 
— before  the  day  of  trial  came. 

Another  object  of  attack  was  the  philosopher 
Anaxagoras.  Anaxagoras  was  an  Ionian  Greek  who 
had  come  to  Athens  in  his  youth,  and  had  been 
admitted  into  the  intimate  friendship  of  Pericles. 
The  philosophy  of  Anaxagoras,  as  we  have  it  de- 
scribed to  us  by  the  ancients,  is  not  unlike  what  we 
should  now  call  Theism.  He  believed  all  things  to 
have  been  brought  into  order  out  of  Chaos  by  a 
principle  which  he  called  Mind  or  Intelligence.  For 
the  Olympian  assembly  of  gods  and  the  powers  who 
in  the  popular  belief  was  supposed  to  preside  over 
the  processes  of  nature,  he  found  no  place,  though 

'nnium."  He  appears  to  be  speaking  from  his  own  experience, 
but  modefn  scepticism  has  questioned  the  statement. 


A    STATESMAN    AND    HIS    FRIENDS.  133 

he  did  not  deny  their  existence.  The  sun,  for 
instance,  in  his  view,  was  not  the  chariot  of  a  God, 
driven  day  by  day  to  illuminate  the  world,  but  a  fiery 
body,  sent,  in  the  beginning,  on  its  course  by  the 
operation  of  a  creative  intelligence,  and  continuing 
duly  to  follow  it.  This  teaching  was  construed  in- 
to atheism  by  conservative  religionists  at  Athens. 
One  of  them,  Diopeithes  by  name,  proposed  that 
those  who  denied  the  existence  of  the  gods  and 
brought  forward  new  theories  about  the  nature  of 
the  heavenly  bodies  should  be  impeached  before  the 
Assembly.  Whether  he  mentioned  Anaxagoras  by 
name,  we  do  not  know.  But  the  resolution  was  at 
once  applied  to  him,  and  he  was  indicted.  He 
contrived,  however,  to  escape  the  fate  of  Pheidias, 
for  though  condemned  and  imprisoned,  he  was  not  long 
afterwards  released,  and  died  in  old  age  at  Lamp- 
sacus.  An  unintelligible  charge  of  "  Medism  *  was 
afterwards  brought  against  him,  and  he  was  found 
guilty  in  his  absence. 

A  third  blow  was  aimed  at  Pericles,  which  must 
have  troubled  him  still  more.  He  had  lived  unhap- 
pily with  his  wife,  and  their  marriage  had  been 
dissolved  by  mutual  consent.  After  this  separation 
he  lived  with  Aspasia  of  Miletus.  She  was  of  a 
rank  which  made  a  legal  marriage  impossible,  but 
the  affection  between  the  two  was  constant  and 
unbroken.     She  was  a  woman  of  great  beauty,  remark- 


134  A   STATESMAN    AND   HIS    FEIEND8. 

able  ability,  and  a  culture  then  very  seldom  found 
in  her  sex.  She  was  accused  of  impiety  and  of 
making  gain  by  odious  means.  Pericles  himself 
appeared  to  plead  her  cause.  For  once  he  departed 
from  his  attitude  of  dignified  reserve,  and  employed 
the  pathetic  appeals,  the  entreaties,  and  even  the 
tears  which,  though  permitted  by  ancient  manners  to 
an  advocate,  seemed  scarcely  to  consist  with  his 
character.  The  judges,  moved  by  an  exhibition  so 
unwonted,  acquitted  the  accused. 

But  now  the  great  statesman's  policy  was  to  be 
put  on  its  trial.  He  had  done  his  utmost  to  make 
Athens  an  imperial  power;  and  this  claim  of  hers, 
to  rule  over  cities  that  by  nature — this  was  the 
common  Greek  belief— were  independent,  was  sharply 
resisted  by  the  rest  of  Greece.  The  protest  came 
in  the  shape  of  the  Peloponnesian  war.  The  causes 
that  brought  it  about  had  been  long  at  work ;  the 
immediate  occasion  was  the  interference  of  Athens 
in  the  affairs  of  certain  colonies  belonging  to  Corinth ; 
the  first  outbreak  will  be  related  hereafter. 

Whether  the  war  could  have  been  postponed  by 
concession  on  the  part  of  Athens,  it  is  impossible 
to  say.  But  Pericles  was  against  all  concession. 
He  was  confident  in  the  power  of  Athens  to  hold 
her  own,  and  he  probably  thought  that  she  was  as 
well  prepared  to  do  so  then,  as  she  ever  would  be 
again.     Nor  were  his   calculations  mistaken.     If  he 


ASPASIA. 
From  a  Bust  Found  near  Civita-Vecchia. 


A   STATESMAN    AND   HIS   FRIENDS.  135 

had  lived  to  guide  Athenian  policy,  or  if  the 
spirit  of  his  counsels  had  animated  his  successors, 
Athens  might  well  have  come  out  of  the  great  war 
stronger  than  she  was  when  she  entered  it. 

.Pericles*s  own  life  ended  in  gloom.  A  great 
disaster,  for  which  no  human  foresight  could  have 
made  an  allowance,  fell  on  his  country,*  and  he  was 
one  of  those  who  suffered  most  from  it.  His  elder 
son  Xanthippus  fell  a  victim  to  this  disease;  and 
the  second  son,  Paralus,  a  youth  of  considerable 
promise,  followed  him.  At  the  funeral  the  father's 
firmness  gave  way.  When  he  placed  the  garland 
round  the  head  of  the  dead  he  burst  into  tears 
The  people  were  touched  by  the  sight.  Earlier  in 
the  year  the  reaction  against  his  policy  had  been 
so  strong  that  for  the  first  time  for  twenty  years 
he  had  not  been  elected  to  the  post  of  general, 
and  had  been  even  fined  fifty  talents.  Now  the 
tide  turned  again.  His  son  by  Aspasia  was  made 
legitimate  and  enrolled  in  his  father's  tribe,  f 

In  the  autumn  of  the  same  year  Pericles  died. 
Whatever  his  faults  he  had  at  least  shown  a  splendid 
disinterestedness,  for  it  was  found,  after  his  death, 
that  he  had  not  added  a  single  drachma  to  the 
inheritance  received  from  his  father. 

•  See  Chapter  XIII  ■  The  Great  Plague  of  Athens.* 
\  He   was   afterwards  put  to  death  among  the  generals  con- 
demned for  neglect  of  the  ships  after  the  battle  of  ArginussB. 


CHAPTER  XnL 

TEE  GREAT  PLAGUE  OF  ATHENS. 

AT  the  end  of  the  first  year  of  the  Peloponnesian 
war  the  Athenians  were  fairly  entitled  to 
boast  that  the  balance  of  advantage  was  not  against 
them.  Nothing  conclusive,  indeed,  had  been  accom- 
plished on  either  side ;  but  Athens  had  gained  more 
successes  than  her  adversaries,  and  had  inflicted  at 
least  as  much  loss  as  she  had  suffered.  The  confident 
expectation  of  Sparta  and  her  allies,  on  the  other 
hand,  had  been  utterly  disappointed.  The  general 
belief,  though  some  better  informed  or  more  saga- 
cious observers  had  dissented,  had  been  that  a  single 
campaign  would  be  enough  to  bring  the  Athenians 
to  their  knees.  They  would  not  endure,  it  was 
thought,  to  see  their  country  ravaged.  The  horror 
of  the  spectacle  would  either  drive  them  into  risking 
a  battle,  in  which  defeat  was  inevitable,  or  make 
them  sue  for  peace.  Attica  was  invaded  and  ravaged 
for    forty    days,    but    the  Athenians,   though   their 

IM 


THE  GREAT  PLAGUB  OF  ATHENS.        137 

patience  was  tried  to  the  uttermost,  remained  resolutely 
within  their  walls.  *  The  next  year  the  same  tactics 
were  repeated,  except  that  the  Peloponnesian  army 
entered  Attica  earlier  in  the  year.  But  if  they  had 
failed  at  the  first  trial  they  were  not  likely  to  suc- 
ceed on  the  second.  But  now  the  enemies  of  Athens 
were  assisted  by  an  ally  as  terrible  as  it  was 
unexpected.  A  great  plague  broke  out.  Commencing, 
it  was  said,  in  Nubia,  it  had  ravaged  Egypt,  and 
from  thence  had  been  carried  to  the  ports  which  had 
business  relations  with  that  country.  It  found  the 
inhabitants  of  Athens  predisposed  to  suffer  grievously 
from  its  ravages.  The  whole  population  of  Attica 
was  crowded  within  the  city  walls.  It  is  difficult  to 
form  even  an  approximate  estimate  of  the  numbers, 
but  these  must  have  been  very  large.  Three  con- 
stituent parts  have  to  be  reckoned,  the  Athenians 
proper,  the  resident  aliens,  and  the  slaves.  Supposing 
this  last  to  be  double  the  first  and  second  taken 
together,  we  may,  perhaps,  venture  on  an  estimate 

•  It  was  only  the  marvellous  personal  ascendency  of  Pericles 
that  brought  about  this  result.  When  the  invading  army  came 
within  sight  of  the  walls,  and  began  to  ravage  the  wealthy  and 
populous  township  of  Acharnae,  the  fury  of  the  people  could 
scarcely  be  restrained.  AcharnsB  alone  contributed  as  many  as 
three  thousand  to  the  roll  of  heavy-armed  soldiers,  and  this 
powerful  contingent  had  a  formidable  influence.  No  one  but 
Pericles,  with  his  unparalleled  influence  over  the  minds  of  his 
countrymen,  could  have  prevented  a  sally. 


138        THE  GREAT  PLAGUE  OP  ATHENS. 

of  six  hundred  thousand.  The  available  space  may, 
perhaps,  be  reckoned  at  four  or  five  square  miles. 
That  the  crowding  was  excessive  we  know  from 
some  direct  statements  and  many  allusions.  The 
poorer  classes  were  obliged  to  content  themselves 
with  such  miserable  shelters  as  hastily  constructed 
cabins  and  even  tubs  which  were  placed  under  the 
shelter  of  the  walls.  Even  consecrated  spaces  which 
an  immemorial  tradition  had  forbidden  to  be  occupied 
were  made  use  of  under  the  stress  of  necessity.  The 
sanitary  appliances  for  this  dense  multitude  were,  of 
course,  miserably  inefficient;  and  the  water  supply 
deficient,  and,  it  can  hardly  be  doubted,  contaminated. 
It  was  a  common  belief  at  the  time  that  the  Pe- 
loponnesians  poisoned  the  wells.  Such  fancies  always 
spring  up  in  times  of  pestilence.  It  is  not  necessary 
to  have  recourse  to  them.  It  would  be  only  too 
easy  for  the  wells  to  be  poisoned  without  the  malicious 
intervention  of  an  enemy.  Thucydides  gives  a  full 
account  of  this  terrible  calamity. 

"  The  year  had  previously  been  remarkably  free 
from  illness;  now  every  disorder  terminated  in  this. 
Others,  who  were  in  perfect  health,  were  suddenly 
attacked  by  this  ailment.  First,  came  violent  heat 
in  the  head,  and  redness  and  inflammation  of  the 
eyes.  The  throat  and  tongue  assumed  a  bloody 
tinge,  and  the  breath  became  unnaturally  fetid.  The 
next   symptoms   were  sneezing  and  hoarseness,  and 


THE  GREAT  PLAGUE  OF  ATHENS.        139 

after  this  the  pain  descended  to  the  chest,  and  was 
accompanied  by  a  violent  cough.  Sometimes  the 
disease  settled  in  the  stomach  and  caused  violent 
vomiting.  In  many  cases,  however,  there  was  much 
ineffectual  retching,  attended  by  spasmodic  pain, 
lasting  much  longer  in  some  cases  than  in  others. 
Externally  the  body  was  not  very  hot,  neither  was 
there  much  pallor.  On  the  contrary,  the  skin  was 
red  or  livid,  and  covered  with  small  pimples  or  sores. 
The  internal  heat,  however,  was  so  violent  that  the 
patient  could  not  bear  clothing  or  linen  of  even  the 
lightest  kind  to  be  laid  upon  him.  His  chief  desire 
seemed  to  be  to  throw  himself  into  cold  water. 
Those  that  were  not  carefully  watched  did  so,  plung- 
ing into  cisterns  in  the  agony  of  their  unquenchable 
thirst,  a  thirst  which  was  equally  troublesome, 
whether  they  drank  much  or  little.  The  body  did 
not  fall  away  as  much  as  might  have  been  expected. 
As  long  as  the  fever  lasted  it  held  out  wonderfully. 
Most  cases  terminated  fatally,  either  on  the  seventh 
or  the  ninth  day,  while  there  was  some  strength 
still  left.  Escaping  that,  the  patient  was  afflicted  by 
a  violent  diarrhoea.  Many  died  from  the  weakness 
this  caused.  Generally  it  was  to  be  noted  that  the 
disease  began  in  the  head  and  passed  through  the 
whole  body.  Not  a  few  of  those  who  escaped  with 
their  lives  suffered  in  their  extremities,  losing  fingers 
or  toes;  in  some  the  eyesight  was  destroyed.    Others,! 


140        THE  GREAT  PLAGUE  OF  ATHENS. 

on  recovering,  had  a  total  loss  of  memory,  and  did  not 
know  their  friends  or  even  themselves.  One  notable 
thing  seemed  to  distinguish  this  disease  from  others 
with  which  mankind  are  attacked.  The  birds  and 
beasts  that  prey  on  human  bodies,  in  this  case  did  not 
come  near  the  corpses  of  those  who  perished  of  the 
plague,  though  many  lay  unburied,  or  they  died  from 
feeding  on  them.  There  was,  indeed,  a  marked 
disappearance  of  birds  of  prey.  The  effect  on  the 
dogs,  which,  as  domestic  animals,  are  more  easily 
observed,  was  still  more  manifest. 
•  "  Whether  the  sick  were  neglected  or  most  carefully 
treated,  the  result  seemed  to  be  much  the  same. 
No  constitution  was  fortified  against  attack,  the  most 
careful  attention  to  diet  was  of  no  avail.  Of  all  the 
symptoms  that  accompanied  the  disease,  the  most 
painful  was  the  extreme  depression  that  settled  upon 
those  who  felt  themselves  attacked  by  it.  They 
abandoned  themselves  to  despair,  and  made  no  attempt 
to  bear  up  against  it.  The  new-comers  who  had 
crowded  into  the  city,  suffered  most.  Living,  as  they 
did,  not  in  houses,  but  in  stifling  cabins,  and  that  in 
the  very  height  of  the  summer,  they  died  in  crowds. 
They  might  be  seen  lying  one  on  another  in  the 
death  agony,  while  half  dying  creatures,  in  their 
longing  for  water,  rolled  about  the  fountains.  The 
sacred  enclosures  were  full  of  corpses,  for  in  the  general 
despair,  all  laws,  sacred  and  profane,  were  disregarded. 


THE  GREAT  PLAGUE  OF  ATHENS.        141 

The  custom  of  burial  was  observed  no  longer,  the  dead 
being  disposed  of  in  the  readiest  way  possible.  Some 
would  place  the  corpse  of  a  relation  on  funeral  piles 
that  had  been  prepared  for  others,  and  so  set  fire  to 
them,  or  they  would  do  the  same  while  the  pile  was 
actually  burning, 

"  Lawlessness  increased  terribly.  Poor  men  came 
suddenly  into  the  possession  of  property,  and  deter- 
mined to  enjoy  what  had  come  to  them  so  speedily , 
and  might  pass  out  of  their  hands  as  soon.  Of  honour 
there  was  little  thought;  who  could  tell  whether  he 
might  not  be  cut  off  before  he  could  grasp  it.  Only 
the  pleasure  of  the  moment  seemed  to  be  worth 
caring  for.  As  for  the  fear  of  the  gods,  or  the  laws 
of  men,  they  were  of  no  avail.  The  godly  and  the 
ungodly  were  seen  to  perish  alike,  and  it  seemed 
unlikely  that  a  man  would  live  to  answer  for  his 
offences.  * 

The  writer  of  this  account  *  tells  us  that  he  was 
himself  attacked  by  the  disease.  His  account  of  the 
symptoms  leaves  little  doubt  that  it  was  something 
of  the  typhus  kind. 

We  do  not  know  the  amount  of  the  mortality 
caused  by  this  terrible  visitation.  Probably  the  number 
was  not  accurately  ascertained  even  at  the  time. 
That  it  was  frightfully  large  we  may  take  for  certain. 
Out  of  a  force  of  four  thousand  heavy-armed  troops, 

*  I  haye  given  only  the  most  salient  points. 


142        THE  GREAT  PLAGUE  OF  ATHENS. 

under  the  command  of  Hagnon,  which  vainly  at- 
tempted to  take  Potidsea,  as  many  as  fifteen  hundred 
died.  The  infection  is  said  to  have  been  communi- 
cated to  the  force  already  in  Thrace  by  the  new 
arrivals  from  the  city. 

We  are  equally  in  the  dark  as  to  the  nature  and 
means  of  the  treatment  employed  by  the  physicians 
of  the  time.  There  is  a  story  that  the  famous 
Hippocrates  was  called  in  by  the  Athenians,  and  that 
he  ordered  large  bonfires  to  be  lighted  in  the  streets 
and  squares  of  the  city.  One  author  gives  the 
prescription  of  the  medicine  which  he  is  said  to  have 
administered,  but  the  whole  narrative  is  probably 
fictitious. 


CHAPTER  XI7. 

A  COLONY. 
HIEEOCLES   AT  THURII  TO   CHARIDEMUS  AT  ATHENS. 

KNOW,  my  dearest  Charidemus,  that  I  am  safely 
arrived  at  this  place,  but  not  without  having 
encountered  many  dangers.  It  were  too  audacious  to 
compare  myself  in  any  respect  to  Ulysses,  yet  I 
might  say  that  Athene,  who  doubtless  has  a  care 
for  all  true  sons  of  her  own  city,  has  preserved  me 
from  the  wrath  of  Poseidon.*  Certainly  the  God  of 
the  Sea,  whom  yet  I  have  not  consciously  offended, 
seemed  to  do  all  that  he  could  to  destroy  me.  In  the 
first  place,  as  we  were  rounding  Cape  Malea,  there  came 
on  a  mist  so  thick  that  we  could  see,  not  indeed 
as  far  as  a  man  can  cast  a  stone,  as  Homer  hath 

*  The  story  of  the  adventures  of  Ulysses  on  his  return  from 
Troy,  turns  in  a  great  measure  on  the  wrath  of  Poseidon  against 
the  hero  (roused  by  his  having  blinded  the  Cyclops,  one  of  the 
god's  sons)  and  the  protection  extended  to  him  by  Athen^. 

148 


144  ▲  OOLONY. 

it,  but  as  far,  rather,  as  he  can  hurl  a  discus*  of 
the  very  heaviest.  Old  Bacis,  who  knows  the  place, 
and,  indeed,  all  places  on  our  coasts,  as  well  as  he 
knows  the  way  from  the  wine  jar  to  his  mouth, 
was  utterly  perplexed.  He  had  never  seen  such  a 
thing,  he  said,  in  all  the  sixty  years  of  his  sea- 
faring. Twice  our  keel  grazed  the  rocks  underneath ; 
twice  did  we  find  ourselves  within  two  or  three 
fathoms  of  the  cliff.  Had  we  not  crept  as  slowly 
on  as  a  tortoise,  we  had  most  certainly  perished.  The 
shipmaster  was  furious,  for,  feeding  his  passengers 
on  contract,  he  makes  more  profit  the  quicker  the 
voyage,  and  seemed  more  content  that  they,  and  he 
too,  should  be  drowned  than  that  he  should  open 
another  jar  of  wine  and  cask  of  biscuit;  but  Bacis 
would  have  it  so.  Then  the  next  day,  the  fog  having 
cleared  off,  there  sprang  up  a  fine  wind  from  the 
South,  raising  waves  like  mountains.  The  ship  was 
deluged  with  water,  which  we  bailed  out,  all  of  us 
with  all  our  might,  the  said  shipmaster  excepted,  for 
he,  half- dead  with  sickness  and  fear,  basely  kept 
under.  *  Can  you  see  land?*  the  fellow  kept  crying 
*  The  discus  was  a  plate  of  metal  (in  the  earliest  times  a 
stone)  about  ten  or  twelve  inches  in  diameter,  with  a  leather 
thong  through  it,  by  which  the  thrower  got  a  firm  hold  of 
it.  It  was  not  thrown  at  a  mark  as  are  our  quoits,  the  victo- 
rious competitor  being  he  who  could  hurl  it  furthest.  Unfor- 
tunately no  records  have  been  preserved  either  of  its  weight  or 
of  the  distances  to  which  it  was  thrown. 


A   COLONY.  145 

to  Bacis.  ■  The  gods  forbid !  *  the  old  man  answered, 
•when  the  wind  blows  in  this  fashion,  give  me  the 
open  sea."  Our  last  and  worst  danger  was  of  another 
kind.  'Twas  from  a  Carthaginian  pirate  ship,  which 
we  espied  as  we  rounded  Cape  Malea.  It  was 
lying  under  shelter  of  the  rocks  on  the  west  side, 
and  had  we  not  been  taking  a  larger  compass  than 
is  usual,  must  have  caught  us.  As  it  was  we  had 
about  five  furlongs  start,  and  even  so  escaped  most 
narrowly.  The  scoundrels  crowded  on  all  the  sail 
that  they  could,  whereas  old  Bacis  would  not  suflFer 
a  stitch  more  of  canvas  to  be  spread  than  he  con- 
sidered to  be  suitable  for  such  weather,  the  wind 
being  gusty  and  uncertain.  The  shipmaster  tore 
his  hair  in  his  rage  and  fear,  and  I  myself,  who  had 
sooner  have  been  drowned  than  spend  the  rest  of 
my  days  in  an  African  leadmine,  began  to  doubt. 
The  pursuers  came  almost  within  a  bow-shot.  Indeed, 
a  spent  arrow  fell  at  the  old  pilot's  feet.  I  doubted 
whether  he  saw  it,  so  intently  was  he  looking  seaward. 
I  followed  his  eyes,  and  saw  that  he  was  watching 
the  coming  up  of  a  squall.  It  seemed  like  a  black 
patch  moving  over  the  sea.  I  noted — it  is  strange 
how  clearly  one  sees  these  things  at  such  times — 
how  white  the  crests  of  the  waves  showed  against 
it.  The  next  moment  it  had  struck  our  pursuers  and 
capsized  them.  We,  too,  reeled  under  it,  our  leeward 
gunwale  being  within  a  finger's  breadth  of  the  water, 

10 


146  ▲   COLONY. 

but  recovered  ourselves.    After  that  we  had  a  speedy 
and  prosperous  voyage. 

The  history  of  this  city  of  Thurii  has  been  not 
unlike  to  the  voyage  which  I  have  now  described. 
It  also  has  passed  through  serious  dangers,  and 
happily  escaping  them,  is  like  to  have  peace  and 
prosperity  henceforth.  First,  we  are  well  quit  of  the 
Sybarites.*  There  are  those  who,  whatever  their 
experiences,  can  never  either  learn  or  forget  anything, 
and  these  Sybarites  were  of  this  kind.  It  can  scarcely 
be  believed  with  what  arrogance  and  folly  they 
behaved  themselves.  Because  they  were  descended 
from  the  inhabitants  of  the  old  city,  they  must  keep 
to  themselves,  forsooth,  all  honours  and  privileges 
in  the  new.  *T would  be  in  any  case  an  intolerable 
pretension ;  how  much  more  so  when  we  consider 
what  manner  of  people  these  inhabitants  of  the  old 
city  are  related  to  have  been  !  The  strangest  stories 
are  told  of  their  ways  of  living,  as  for  instance,  that 
no  noisy  craft  or  industry,  as  of  smiths  or  cobblers, 
were  permitted  in  their  city,  lest  haply  their  slumbers 

*  Thurii  was  intended  to  be  a  revival  of  the  colony  of 
Sybaris,  which  had  been  destroyed  by  its  neighbour  Crotona  in 
the  year  530  B.C.  Fifty-eight  years  afterwards  the  survivors 
and  descendants  of  the  exiles  rebuilt  the  city.  It  was  destroyed 
again  by  the  same  enemy.  This  was  in  447.  In  443  another 
attempt  was  made,  this  time  under  the  protection  of  Athens. 
The  old  site  of  Sybaris  was  abandoned  for  another  which  took 
its  name  from  the  fountain  of  Thuria. 


▲   COLONY.  147 

should  be  disturbed,  nor  was  it  lawful  to  keep  a 
cock.  Their  streets  were  covered  over  lest  haply 
they  should  be  scorched  by  the  sun,  and  they  were 
wont  to  take  three  days  to  accomplish  a  single  day's 
journey.  They  bestowed  the  highest  honours  of  the 
state  on  those  that  furnished  the  most  costly  and 
luxurious  entertainments,  and  at  their  public  festivals 
they  crowned  the  cooks  that  had  invented  a  new 
dish.  Well,  to  return  to  my  story,  the  children  and 
grandchildren  of  the  men  that  had  so  distinguished 
themselves  would  have  monopolized  everything,  priest- 
hoods, magistracies  and  the  like.  And  the  women, 
as  is  the  way  with  them,  were  even  more  arrogant 
than  the  men,  forbidding,  for  instance,  well-born 
Athenian  maidens  to  walk  in  the  procession  of  their 
own  goddess.  Something  the  other  citizens  would 
have  willingly  conceded  to  them,  but  their  claims 
were  beyond  all  endurance.  In  the  end  the  matter 
was  decided  by  arms,  a  pitched  battle  being  fought 
in  the  street.  The  Sybarites  were  defeated,  and 
driven  out  of  the  city,  and  settling  themselves  in  a 
strong  fortress  hard  by,  were  there  set  upon  by  the 
barbarians,  and  for  the  most  part,  slain.  This  cause 
of  troubles  being  removed,  another  soon  followed  it; 
you  will  readily  understand  that  the  Crotonians, 
though  they  ventured  not  to  resist  the  power  of  Athens, 
were  ill  pleased  to  see  an  old  rival  restored.  But 
they    also    are    now   at   peace   with   us,   friendship 


148  A   COLONY. 

being  noiiv  easily  made,  when  these  same  haughty 
Sybarites  had  been  expelled  from  the  city.  Thurii, 
therefore,  is  now,  as  I  have  said,  at  rest.  That  it 
will  always  so  remain  I  would  not  willingly  affirm. 
Such  is  not  the  way  in  human  affairs,  and  there  are 
special  causes  from  which  trouble  may  arise  hereafter. 
Never  was  there  a  city  in  with  was  so  strange 
a  mixture  of  men!  Arcadians,  Boeotians,  men  of 
Elis,  dwellers  in  the  Islands,  and  many  others  are 
to  be  found.  We  Athenians  are  but  a  few  in  a 
multitude.  Nevertheless  we  shall  be  undisturbed  in 
our  pre-eminence,  so  long  as  Athens  shall  prosper. 
So  much  then  for  our  affairs.  And  now  for  other 
matters.  Know  in  the  first  place,  that  Herodotus  is 
yet  alive,  but,  I  write  it  with  much  grief,  feeble 
and  sickly.  Old  he  is  not,  not  having  reached  his 
sixtieth  year,  but  worn-out  before  his  time,  having 
suffered  much  in  his  travels,  as  I  have  learnt  from 
him  in  many  talks  which  I  have  had  with  him  since 
I  came  to  this  place.  And,  indeed,  he  has  travelled 
distances  well  nigh  incredible,  certainly  such  as  no 
other  man  has  achieved.  You  know  how  our  cousin 
Timanthes  was  wont  to  boast  of  a  journey  to  Susa 
and  back  when  he  went  on  an  embassy  to  the  Great 
King,  and,  indeed,  there  were  not  many  men  in  Athens 
who  had  done  as  much.  But  this  journey  to  Susa 
is  one  only,  and  that  neither  the  longest  or  the  most 
adventurous,    of  the   travels  of  Herodotus.     Among 


▲  COLONY.  149 

US  again  it  is  a  notable  thing  even  to  set  foot  in 
Egypt,  but  he  has  traversed  it  in  its  length  and 
breadth,  and  even  penetrated  to  its  border  in  the 
South,  where  it  touches  on  the  land  of  the  iEthiopians. 
As  for  the  other  countries  and  cities  which  he  has 
visited,  they  are  almost  past  telling.  There  is  scarcely 
a  Greek  city  which  he  does  not  know,  whether  at 
home  or  abroad,  and  with  the  nearer  barbarians,  as 
those  of  Thrace  and  Macedonia,  he  has  no  small 
acquaintance.  The  Lesser  Asia  is  well  known  to 
him  from  East  to  West  and  from  North  to  South. 

It  must  be  confessed  that  for  all  these  labours, 
and  for  the  great  sums  of  money  which  he  has 
expended  upon  them  he  has  as  yet  had  but  a  small 
recompense,  or,  I  might  almost  say,  no  recompense 
at  all.  Consider,  for  instance,  what  has  befallen  him 
in  his  own  native  city  of  Halicarnassus.  It  might 
have  been  expected  that  his  fellow-countrymen  would 
have  been  proud  of  a  citizen  so  distinguished,  all  the 
more  because,  apart  from  his  reputation  as  a  traveller, 
he  did  them  excellent  service  in  the  matter  of  the 
Tyrant  Lygdamis.  As  all  men  know,  the  Halicar- 
nasseans  would  scarcely  have  rid  themselves  of  this 
oppressor  but  for  the  sagacious  counsels  of  Herodotus. 
And  how  have  they  requited  him  ?  So  far  from  paying 
him  due  honour,  they  made  his  life  unbearable— this 
I  have  from  the  life  of  the  man  himself.  And  the  way 
they  did  this  was  by  ridicule  of  his  tales  of  travel. 


150  A   COLONY. 

His  name  passed  among  his  countrymen  into  a  very 
by-word  for  that  which  is  foolish  and  incredible. 
Hence  it  is  that  he  emigrated  to  this  place,  where 
he  meets  with  less  annoyance,  it  is  true,  but  only 
because  he  is  less  known.  So  far  as  the  Thuriotes 
have  any  acquaintance  with  him,  they  all,  some  five 
or  six  only  excepted,  think  of  him  as  a  teller  of  idle 
tales. 

*  And  you  yourself,*  this  I  imagine  to  be  the 
question  which  you  will  now  put  to  me,  "  what  think 
you  of  these  said  tales?"  Let  me  answer  first  that 
men  do  not  sufficiently  distinguish  between  the  various 
ways  which  he  has  of  telling  his  tales.  Of  some,  he 
says  expressly  that  he  does  not  believe  them.  'Tis 
a  common  phrase  with  him,  "  So  they  talk,  but  to  me, 
for  one,  it  seems  a  thing  incredible."  There  are  others 
about  which  he  pronounces  no  judgment.  His  readers 
may  believe  them  or  not,  as  they  will;  he  does  but 
tell  again  what  has  been  told  to  him.  Others,  again, 
he  relates  of  his  own  knowledge.  Of  these  I  will 
affirm  so  much  and  no  more,  that  he  has  put  down 
nothing  but  what  he  himself  verily  believes  to  be 
true.  This  much,  however,  must  be  conceded,  that 
he  is  of  a  credulous  temper,  willing  to  accept  the 
marvellous,  and  so  especially  liable  to  be  deceived. 
Do  you  not  remember  what  he  writes  of  the  temple 
of  the  Tyrian  Hercules,  how  that  he  saw  in  it  two 
pillars,  one  of  fine  gold,  the  other  of  emerald,  which 


A  OOLONT.  151 

latter  shone  at  night  with  a  particular  lustre?  Of 
the  bigness  of  these  said  pillars  he  does  not  inform 
us,  but  we  may  suppose  that  they  are  some  cubits, 
say  six  or  seven,  in  height.  Now  of  the  pillar  of 
gold  I  need  say  nothing.  Probably  'tis  of  some 
baser  metal  gilded,  but  that  the  priests  affirmed  it 
to  be  pure  gold  may  readily  be  imagined.  Nor  can 
one  distinguish  between  a  thing  of  gold  and  a  thing 
gilded,  not  being  allowed  either  to  examine  a  part 
or  to  weigh  the  whole.  As  for  the  emerald  it  is  alto- 
gether beyond  belief.  An  emerald  is  a  precious 
stone,  varying,  indeed,  in  bigness,  but  not  passing  in 
size  beyond  certain  limits.  None  have  been  ever 
heard  of  larger  than  the  fruit  of  the  nut-tree.  *  'Tis 
of  the  same  order  of  things  as  the  amethyst,  the 
topaz,  the  chrysoprase,  the  pearl,  though  this  last  is 
affirmed  by  some  to  come  from  a  certain  shell-fish. 
What  then  was  this  pillar  of  emerald?  Of  glass, 
surely,  and  hollow,  so  that  the  priests,  putting  a  lamp 
within,  caused  the  nightly  splendour  of  which  our 
friend  speaks.  Not  seldom,  indeed,'  has  he  been 
deceived  by  those  from  whom  he  sought  information — 
so,  at  least,  it  seems  to  me.  The  priests  in  Egypt, 
for  example,  told  him  many  things  of  which,  to  say 
the  least,  there  is  no  proof,  and  but  little  probability. 

*  By  the  "  nut-tree"  Hierocles  means  the  "  walnut,"  known 
in  Italy  and  Greece  from  time  immemorial.  The  hazel-nut  is 
indigenous  in  Northern  Europe  but  was  not  known  to  the  Greeks 


152  A  OOLOHT. 

Add  to  this  a  frequent  cause  of  error,  in  this,  that 
all  things  said  on  either  side  had  to  pass  through 
the  lips  of  an  interpreter.  It  is  well  known  how 
much  a  narrative  is  changed  when  it  is  told  for  a 
second  time,  though  in  all  good  faith.  How  much 
greater  the  change  when  this  change  is  increased  by 
diversities  of  language! 

Nor  must  it  be  forgotten  that  things  that  seem 
incredible  may  yet  be  true.  Our  friend  says  that  there 
are  parts  of  Egypt  in  which  it  never  rains,*  so  that  the 
falling  of  a  few  drops  was  considered  a  portent  of 
evil,  which,  indeed,  came  to  pass  when  the  country 
was  conquered  by  Cambyses  and  the  Persians.  This 
seems  a  marvellous  thing  to  us,  as  it  would  seem  a 
marvellous  thing  to  these  same  Egyptians  should 
one  tell  them  that  in  Greece,  at  certain  seasons  of 
the  year,  water  becomes  solid  so  that  a  man  may 
walk  upon  it. 

Do  you  not  remember,  my  Charidemus,  the  strange 

•  Herodotus  certainly  affirms  that  it  never  rained  in  Upper 
Egypt.  At  present  a  few  slight  showers  commonly  fall  in  the 
year,  and  very  seldom  there  is  heavy  rain.  It  is  possible  that 
the  climate  may  have  changed  in  this  respect.  Or  Herodotus 
may  have  seen  no  rain  or  signs  of  rain  during  a  somewhat 
prolonged  sojourn.  As  to  the  past  he  may  have  misunder- 
stood his  informants,  or  even  have  been  deliberately  deceived  by 
them.  It  is  quite  possible  to  imagine  the  Egyptian  priests 
finding  entertainment  in  misleading  a  tronblesomely  inquisitive 
Greek. 


A  OOLOKT.  153 

thing  which  our  friend  relates  about  the  King, 
who  caused  to  be  brought  before  him  certain 
Indians  and  Greeks.  To  the  Greeks  he  said :  *  What 
would  persuade  you  to  devour  the  bodies  of  your 
fathers  when  they  are  dead?"  At  this  the  men 
cried  out  in  horror,  as  well  they  might.  Then  he 
said  to  the  Indians :  "  What  think  you  of  burying 
your  fathers  when  they  die  ? "  But  the  burying  seemed 
to  them  as  detestable  a  practice  as  did  devouring  to 
the  others.  Yet  who  would  have  believed,  without 
certain  proof,  that  there  are  men  who  practice  cus- 
toms so  strange?  And  there  is,  I  verily  believe, 
yet  greater  variety  in  nature  than  in  the  customs 
of  men,  so  that  nothing  should  seem  incredible  in 
the  one  or  impossible  in  the  other. 

There  are  other  notable  persons  in  the  city.  Pore- 
most  among  them,  at  least  in  his  own  esteem,  is 
the  Spartan  Cleandridas.  With  us  at  Athens  he  is, 
as  you  know,  in  but  ill  repute,  for  though  he  did  us 
a  service,  *  'twas  not  for  love  but  for  gold.  Of  the 
Thurians  he   has  deserved  better,   for  he  led  their 

*  The  "service"  was  rendered  in  446  B.C.  when  Cleandridas 
acted  as  adviser  to  the  young  king  Pleistoanax.  The  Spartans 
had  invaded  the  territory  of  Attica,  but  retired,  without  doing 
much  damage,  in  consequence,  it  was  said,  of  a  bribe  offered  to 
their  leaders  by  Pericles.  The  Spartan  authorities  believed  that 
there  had  been  corruption,  for  they  banished  Cleandridas,  and 
inflicted  a  heavy  fine  on  Pleistoanax.  Cleandridas  retired  to 
Thurii. 


154  A  COLONY. 

army,  with  much  skill  and  judgment,  according  to  all 
accounts,  in  the  war  that  they  carried  on  with 
Tarentum.  He  affects,  I  am  told,  luxurious  ways 
beyond  all  the  dwellers  in  the  city.  I  understand 
that  this  is  commonly  the  case  with  the  Spartans, 
so  soon  as  they  get  out  of  the  reach  of  their  strict 
discipline. 

I  admire  more  a  young  countryman  of  ours, 
Lysias  by  name,  who  has  a  great  reputation  for 
eloquence  in  this  city,  not  ill-deserved,  as  far  as  I 
can  judge,  who  have  heard,  as  you  know,  the  great 
Pericles  himself.  He  teaches  others  to  practise  the 
art  in  which  he  himself  excels,  and  it  is  my  pur- 
pose when  I  receive  the  next  instalment  of  my 
property  to  enrol  myself  among  his  pupils.  At 
present  I  cannot  by  any  means  spare  the  ten  mince  * 
which  is  his  customary  fee. 

More  remarkable  than  any  is  the  philo«^7)her 
Empedocles,  of  Acragas  f  in  Sicily,  who  has  done  the 
colony  the  honour  of  paying  it  a  visit.  "  Philsopher  * 
do  I  call  him?  He  would  scarcely  be  content  with 
the  word.     According  to  his  own  account,  as  there 

*  Ten  mincB  would  be  equal  to  between  £85  and  £36,  reck- 
oning by  weight  at  the  rate  of  2d.  per  grain  for  gold.  The 
purchasing  power,  however,  of  the  sum  would  be  greater  than 
is  represented  by  the  figures  in  English  money,  gold  having 
been  much  scarcer  than  it  is  at  present. 

t  Better  known  under  its  Roman  name  of  Agrigentum.  It  is 
now  Girgenti. 


A   COLONY.  155 

is  nothing  which  he  does  not  know,  so  there  is 
nothing  which  he  cannot  do.  If  any  region  is  plagued 
with  epidemic  diseases,  as  are  many  countries,  for 
instance,  with  ague  and  fever,  he  can  make  them 
healthy;  he  can  bring  down  rain  when  the  land 
is  suffering  from  drought ;  he  can  bring  back  the  sun 
into  the  heavens  when  the  harvests  are  suffering 
from  superabundance  of  rain;  he  can  cure  diseases 
both  of  body  and  mind,  and  has  remedies  against  old 
age  and  death ;  he  can  foretell  the  future  and  recover 
things  that  have  been  forgotten  in  the  past.  Such 
are  his  claims — I  have  heard  them  from  his  own 
mouth,  as  well  as  read  them  in  the  book  of  "Puri- 
fications "  which  he  has  written.  You  will  doubtless 
ask  me,  *  What  think  you  of  these  things  yourself?  " 
Let  me  answer  that  I  neither  believe  nor  disbelieve. 
That  the  man  has  a  marvellous  presence,  and  a 
tongue  so  sweet  and  so  persuasive  that,  at  least 
while  he  is  speaking,  it  is  impossible  to  doubt,  that 
he  has  wrought  many  marvellous  cures,  has  foreseen 
things  to  come,  or,  at  the  least,  guessed  them  with 
marvellous  accuracy,  that  he  has  received  signal 
honours  from  cities  which  he  has  benefited  by  his 
counsels — all  these  things  are  beyond  question.  More 
I  cannot  say. 

I  have  had  some  interesting  talk  with  a  young 
stranger  from  one  of  the  Italian  towns.  He  was  on 
his   way  to  Sicily  to  buy  corn,  his  people  suffering, 


156  A    COLOKT. 

he  told  me,  greatly  from  a  scarcity  of  food.  He 
had  been  shipwrecked,  and  after  various  adventures 
— a  capture  by  robbers  among  them— had  made  his 
way  to  this  place.  There  was  this  bond  of  union 
between  us,  I.  found,  that  his  great-grandfather  had 
taken  part,  some  eighty  years  before,  in  the  expelling 
of  tyrants  from  his  city—"  Roma,"  he  called  it— even 
as  did  mine  from  our  own  Athens.  But  they  do  not 
seem  to  have  had  so  much  prosperity  since  that  time 
as  the  gods  have  granted  to  us.  Rather  they  have 
become  weaker  by  the  change,  the  more  so  as  these 
tyrants  were  of  the  powerful  Etruscan  race,  which 
thus  became  a  most  dangerous  enemy.  One  of  the 
strongest  and  most  populous  cities  of  these  Etruscans 
is,  he  told  me,  no  more  than  ten  miles  from  their 
gates.*  This  seems  to  me  almost  intolerable;  it  is 
as  if  we  had  an  enemy  always  at  Eleusis.  Then 
again  they  are  troubled  by  fierce  dissensions  between 
the  nobles  and  the  common  people.  These  latter  are 
not  only  shut  out  from  their  due  share  in  the  govern- 
ment of  the  state,  but  are  weighed  down  by  an 
almost  intolerable  weight  of  debt.  Unhappily  for 
them,  they  have  never  had  a  Solon  among  them,  as 
wise  as  he  was  bold.f  I  doubt  whether  a  city 
threatened    both    within    and    without   by    so   many 

*  Veii,   not   conquered  by  Rome  till  more  than  thirty  years 
after  the  supposed  date  of  this  letter, 
t  See  the  account  of  Solon. 


A  COLONY.  157 

dangers,  can  long  survive.  My  young  friend,  however, 
who  is  a  noble,  but  of  the  more  liberal  sort,*  has 
very  large  hopes  for  the  future  of  his  country. 
Anyhow,  it  is  at  too  great  distance  to  be  a  formid- 
able rival  to  Thurii.  I  must  confess  that  I  am  not 
so  easy  in  mind  about  some  of  our  nearer  neighbours, 
the  Lucanians,t  for  instance,  who  already  begin  to 
threaten  some  of  the  smaller  Greek  cities  in  this 
region.  I  must  cease,  for  the  messenger  who  is  to 
carry  this  to  Athens  waits.     Farewell. 

*  Probably  one  of  the  Valerian  House,  "  the  good  house  that 
loved  the  people  well,"  as  Macaulay  describes  it. 

t  Hierocles  was  not  mistaken  in  his  anticipations  of  trouble 
for  the  Greek  cities  in  Italy,  from  their  Lucanian  and  Bruttian 
neighbours.  Paestum,  on  the  west  coast,  fell  into  their  hands 
about  the  beginning  of  the  fourth  century.  Shortly  after  this 
the  cities  formed  a  confederacy  for  self-defence  against  them. 
The  people  of  Thurii  suffered  a  disastrous  defeat  from  them  in  the 
year  390  B.C.,  losing,  it  is  said,  as  many  as  ten  thousand  in 
killed  and  prisoners.  Still,  it  was  Rome,  which  at  the  date  of 
this  letter  seemed,  and  mdeed  was,  an  insignificant  place  (there 
was  a  considerable  falling  off  in  its  power  after  the  expulsion 
of  the  Kings)  that  ultimately  destroyed  ihe  independence  of 
the  Greek  cities  in  Italy. 


CHAPTER  XV. 
THE  HOLY  ISLAND, 

•'VTEVER  saw  I  so  fair  a  mortal,  man  or  woman,* 
ly  says  the  shipwrecked  Ulysses  to  the  Phseacian 
maiden  Nausicaa,  "  and  but  once  only  as  goodly  a 
thing;  'twas  in  Delos,  the  young  sapling  of  a  palm- 
tree  that  sprang  up  by  the  altar  of  Apollo."  This 
takes  us  back  very  far ;  how  far  we  cannot  say,  but 
probably,  if  we  are  to  accept  the  opinion  of  the 
majority  of   scholars,    beyond  1000  B.C.  *     Anyhow 

*  Most  scholars,  at  least  in  England,  or,  perhaps  we  should 
rather  say,  out  of  Germany,  believe  that  the  Iliad  and  the 
Odyssey,  at  least  in  their  original  form,  were  composed  before 
this  date.  The  question  is  too  large  to  be  discussed  here,  but 
I  may  summarize  the  argument  for  this  early  date  by  saying 
that  the  Homeric  poems  describe  a  civilization  which  existed 
in  Greece  before  1000  B.C.  but  was  swept  away  by  the  Dorian 
invasion,  a  movement  of  the  rude  mountain  tribes  of  North- 
ern Greece  upon  the  civilized  regions  of  the  South,  which  took 
place  about  that  time.  The  existence  of  this  civilization  is 
chiefly  proved  by  the  artistic  remains  found  in  Mycenae,  Tiryns, 
AmyclsB,  and  other  towns  of  the  Peloponnese. 

158 


THE   HOLY   ISLAND.  159 

we  may  be  certain  that  long  before  the  dawn  of 
history  Delos  was  a  well-known  place.  An  island 
so  insignificant  in  size — it  is  little  more  than  five 
miles  in  circumference — must  have  had  something 
special  to  make  it  famous,  for  the  poet  to  mention 
it  in  this  way,  the  hero  taking  it  for  granted  that 
Nausicaa,  a  native,  it  must  be  remembered,  of  an  island 
on  the  other  side  of  Greece,  knows  the  place  of  which 
he  is  speaking.  What  this  special  attraction  was  we 
learn  from  the  Homeric  hymn  to  Apollo.  The  hymn 
is  called  "  Homeric, "  and  was,  indeed,  believed  by  the 
ancients  to  be  of  the  same  date  as  the  great  poems. 
Modern  criticism,  however,  has  detected  traces  of  a 
later  origin.  Its  date  is  uncertain,  but  it  may  be 
conjecturally  ascribed  to  the  middle  of  the  seventh 
century  B.C.     In  this  Hymn  we  read  as  follows: 

"There  are  met  together  the  long-robed  sons  of 
Ionia  with  their  children  and  their  chaste  wives ; 
there  in  honour  of  Apollo  they  wrestle  and  dance 
and  sing.  Whoso  shall  see  them  will  say  :  *  Deathless 
surely  they  are  and  Death  comes  not  near  them,'  so 
much  of  beauty  would  he  behold  on  every  side,  so 
full  of  delight  would  he  be  to  look  upon  the  men, 
and  the  fair-girdled  women,  and  the  swift  ships,  and 
the  riches  of  every  kind.  And  near  them  are  the 
maidens  of  Delos,  priestesses  of  the  Archer-God,  who 
celebrate  in  song  Apollo  and  Artemis  and  Leto  their 
mother,   and  the   glory   of  the  famous  men  and  the 


160  THE   HOLY   ISLAND. 

famous  women  of  old,  charming  with  their  hymns 
the  hearts  of  mortal  men." 

Delos,  in  fact,  was  the  meeting-place  of  the  Ionian 
tribes,  one  of  the  great  branches  of  the  Hellenic  race. 
An  immemorial  tradition  had  placed  there  the  birth- 
place of  Apollo  and  his  sister  Artemis,  and  the  temple 
of  Apollo,  who  seems  to  have  had  more  than  his 
share  of  the  worshippers'  homage,  became  the  centre 
of  attraction.  A  Greek  was  accustomed  to  combine 
pleasure  with  his  religious  duties,  and  the  festival  was 
made  more  attractive  by  athletic  and  artistic  contests. 
Again,  neither  religion  nor  amusement  distracted  his 
attention  from  commerce.  Delos  was  singularly  well 
placed  to  be  a  trade  centre ;  it  lay  in  the  line  of  the 
great  trade  routes,  whether  ending  in  Italy  to  the 
West,  or  in  Egypt  and  Syria  eastwards.  Both  causes 
acted  together  to  make  it  a  rich  and  popular  place. 

Then  came  the  change,  the  first  of  the  many 
vicissitudes  of  fortune  through  which  the  island  has 
passed.  The  great  Ionian  cities  on  the  mainland  of 
Asia  Minor  fell  into  the  hands  of  their  neighbours 
on  the  East,  becoming  tributaries  first  to  the  Lydian 
and  afterwards  to  the  Perisan  Kings.  The  festival 
was  dropped ;  we  do  not  know  the  precise  date  of 
its  discontinuance,  but  it  must  have  been  at  some 
time  in  the  course  of  the  sixth  century  B.C.  Some- 
thing, however,  of  its  old  sanctity  still  clung  to  the 
island.  When  the  Persian  generals,  Datis  and  Arta- 


A 


THE   HOLY   ISLAND.  161 

phernes  were  on  their  way  to  Greece  in  490,  the 
inhabitants  of  Delos,  fearful  of  the  fate  which  had 
overtaken  others  islanders,  fled  from  their  homes. 
They  took  refuge  in  Tenos,  which,  lying  as  it  did 
outside  the  direct  route  to  Athens,  would,  they  hoped, 
be  overlooked  by  the  Persians.  Datis  sent  a  herald 
to  them  with  a  conciliatory  and  reassuring  message. 
It  was  to  this  effect: 

"  Why  have  ye  thus  fled,  ye  holy  men  ?  Why 
think  ye  so  ill  of  me?  Surely  I  had  been  sufficiently 
wise,  even  without  the  king's  command  to  spare  the 
land  which  was  the  birth-place  of  the  two  gods,  * 
to  spare  both  the  land  and  them  that  dwell  therein. 
Come  ye  back  therefore  to  your  homes,  and  inhabit 
again  your  island." 

Anxious,  it  is  possible,  to  atone  for  any  slight,  he 
offered  the  huge,  the  almost  incredible  amount  of  three 
hundred  talents  of  frankincense  on  the  altar  of  the 
temple  of  Apollo. 

This  was  in  490,  the  Persian  army  being  on  its 
way  to  Attica,  where  it  was  to  fight  the  disastrous 
battle  of  Maiathon.     Fourteen  years  afterwards  Delos 

*  The  Persians  might  identify  Apollo  with  the  Sun  and  Artemis 
with  the  Moon.  They  might  also  have  been  influenced  by  the 
cuiiunon  belief  among  the  Greeks  that  these  two  deities  were 
I'oiiiu'cted  with  pestilence  and  sudden  death.  Their  general 
jiiiictire  was  to  destroy  the  sacred  buildings  in  all  the  dtiei 
^v'hich  they  captured. 

11 


162  THE   HOLY  ISLAND. 

became,  in  virtue  of  its  central  position,  a  place  of 
the  greatest  importance.  The  defeat  of  the  Persians, 
at  Salamis  in  480,  and  at  Plataea  and  Mycale  in 
479,  had  relieved  Greece  of  immediate  fear  of  inva- 
sion, but  there  were  many  reasons  for  continuing 
hostilities.  The  invaders  had  behaved  with  the 
greatest  barbarity,  sparing  nothing,  sacred  or  profane, 
and  had  thus  laid  up  against  themselves  a  store  of 
wrongs  which  it  would  take  a  generation  to  expiate. 
Then  again,  many  Greek  communities  were  still 
subject  to  their  tyranny.  Finally,  the  danger  of 
invasion,  though  removed  for  a  time,  might  revive. 
As  long  as  Greece  consisted  of  a  number  of  inde- 
pendent states,  jealous  of  each  other,  and  bound 
together  by  no  common  sentiment,  so  long  a  powerful 
enemy  would  be  dangerous  to  them.  The  enemy  had 
found  traitors  among  them  already,  and  he  would 
certainly  find  them  again.  To  oppose  him  success- 
fully it  would  be  necessary  to  form  a  confederation. 
For  some  time  after  the  victories  of  479  the  Greek 
forces  were  under  Spartan  command.  But  the  mis- 
conduct of  Pausanias  and  the  general  incapacity  of 
the  Spartans  for  rule  put  an  end  to  this  arrangement. 
Athens  naturally  succeeded  to  the  place  thus  vacated ; 
and  Athens  at  once  set  about  forming  what  may  be 
called  an  Anti-Persian  league.  Both  the  sacred  asso- 
ciations and  the  position  of  Delos,  pointed  it  out  as 
the  head-quarters  of  the  alliance,  and  Athens,  which 


HOLT   ISLAND.  168 

had  not  yet  exchanged  its  generous  patriotism  for 
selfish  ambition,  willingly  assented.  An  assessment 
towards  the  common  object— operations  against  the 
Persian  foe — was  made  on  the  members  of  the 
alliance.  The  total  amount  of  the  money  payment 
was  large,  as  much  as  j6106,000,*  and  there  were 
also  contingents  of  ships  of  war.  We  do  not  know 
the  details  of  this  assessment,  but  we  are  informed 
that  it  was  made  by  Aristides,  and  that  it  gave 
then  and  afterwards  universal  satisfaction. 

It  is  no  part  of  my  plan  to  relate  the  history  of 
the  Delian  confederacy.  The  materials  for  such  a 
history,  indeed,  are  very  scanty.  We  know  that  Naxos 
revolted  about  ten  years  after  its  formation,  and 
Thasos  very  shortly  afterwards.  Both  islands  were 
subdued,  chiefly,  of  course,  by  the  power  of  Athens. 
The  natural  result  was  the  aggrandizement  of  the 
victorious  city.  Little  by  little  her  relations  to 
her  allies  were  changed.  One  after  another,  they  were 
compelled  or  consented  to  commute  the  contingent 
of  war-ships  for  an  increased  money  contribution. 
Before  thirty  years  had  passed  all  the  allies,  with 
two  exceptions,  had  become  tributaries,  content  to 
fulfil  their  obligations  by  a  money  payment,  these  two  - 
being  Chios  and  Lesbos.  Meanwhile  the  first  object  of 
the  confederation  had  been  receding  into  the  distance. 

•  This   is   calculated  by  the  value  of  the  bullion.     Probably 
the  purchasing  power  varied  greatly  from  time  to  time. 


164  THE   HOLY   ISLAND. 

The  Persians  had  almost  ceased  to  be  formidable  to 
Greece ;  any  dangers  which  threatened  the  country  in 
that  direction  were  only  made  serious  by  the  unprin- 
cipled competition  which  the  leading  Greek  states 
carried  on  against  each  other.  Athens  began  to  use  the 
fleet  for  her  own  purposes,  for  expanding  her  dominion 
and  pushing  her  own  commerce.  Nothing  could  be 
a  more  significant  mark  of  this  change,  than  the  fact 
that  the  treasury  was  transferred  from  Delos  to  Athens. 
This  transfer  took  place  in  the  year  454  B.C.  Though 
the  island  must  be  supposed  to  have  lost  something 
of  its  dignity  by  this  change,  its  splendour  and  we 
may  say  its  prosperity,  were,  it  may  be  said,  increased. 
These  were  at  their  height  during  the  twenty  years 
that  intervened  between  454  and  the  commencement 
of  the  Peloponnesian  war  in  432.  Athens  had  reached 
her  culminating  point  of  wealth  and  power,  and  she 
delighted  to  make  the  embassies  sent  to  the  Sacred 
Island  more  and  more  magnificent.  One  occasion  of 
this  kind  was  long  remembered  for  the  splendour 
which  distinguished  it.  The  leader  of  the  embassy 
was  Nicias,  son  of  Niceratus,  the  chief  of  the  aris- 
tocratic party  in  Athens,  and  one  of  the  wealthiest 
men  in  the  country.*  Commonly  the  effect  of  the 
spectacle  was  marred  by  the  unmanageable  crowd 
that  had  assembled  to  witness  the  landing  of  the 

^  He   rented,    in   part    at   least,    the  famous  silver  mines  at 
Laurium,  employing  in  them  as  many  as  a  thousand  slayes. 


I 


THE   HOLY   ISLAND.  165 

embassy.  Nicias  remedied  this,  by  disembarking  the 
previous  day  on  the  island  of  Rheneia,  which  is 
separated  from  Delos  by  a  strait  about  half  a  mile 
in  breadth.  He  had  brought  with  him,  from  Athens, 
in  separate  pieces,  a  bridge  which  was  to  be  thrown 
across  the  channel.  These  were  put  together  in  the 
course  of  the  night.  The  next  day  the  procession, 
a  numerous  body  consisting  of  some  of  the  principal 
citizens  of  Athens,  with  musicians  splendidly  attired, 
and  choruses  of  youths  and  maidens  clad  in  white, 
made  its  way  at  a  slow  and  measured  pace  across 
the  bridge,  itself  a  handsome  structure  adorned  with 
gilding  and  tapestry. 

With  the  Peloponnesian  war  naturally  commenced 
a  decline  in  the  fortunes  of  Delos.  The  resources 
of  Athens  were  taken  up,  and  more  than  taken  up, 
with  warlike  expenditure,  and  the  cost  of  the  embassies 
had  to  be  seriously  curtailed.  Then  her  attitude  towards 
her  dependencies  was  greatly  changed.  She  became  a 
grudging  and  oppressive  ruler.  In  426  the  Atheni- 
ans undertook  a  complete  purification  of  the  island. 
All  remains  of  the  dead  were  removed,  and  an  ordi- 
nance was  made  for  the  future,  that,  as  far  as  could 
be  prevented,  no  birth  or  death  was  to  take  place 
upon  the  island.  Four  years  later  all  the  native 
inhabitants  were  removed  and  settled  on  the  mainland. 
A  part  of  them,  however,  were  permitted  to  return 
after   the    conclusion    of  the    peace    of   Nicias,    the 


166  THE  HOLY  ISLAND. 

Athenians  attributing  their  disasters  to  the  wrath  of 
Apollo  at  the  ill-treatment  of  his  proteges. 

After  the  fall  of  Athens  in  404,  when  the  depen- 
dencies of  Athens  had  their  freedom  restored  to  them, 
the  Delians  became  independent.  Their  independence, 
however,  did  not  last  long.  Athens  recovered  pos- 
session of  the  island  when  the  Spartans*  supremacy 
in  Greece  ceased  to  exist.  Nor  did  she  lose  it  when 
Philip  of  Macedon  became  practically  the  ruler  of  Greece. 
This,  as  has  been  well  remarked,  she  would  hardly 
have  been  permitted  to  do,  if  the  island  had  been 
of  any  great  value.  The  fact  is  that  the  first  three 
quarters  of  the  fourth  century  B.C.  were  a  period 
of  great  depression  in  the  history  of  Delos.  The 
inscriptions  from  which  our  knowledge  of  this  history 
is  mainly  derived,  have  very  little  to  tell  us.  The 
Athenian  embassy,  if  it  was  not  entirely  discontinued, 
had  little  pomp  or  splendour  about  it.  Offerings 
from  other  states,  from  princes  Greek  or  Oriental, 
were  no  longer  sent.  The  names  of  Philip  and 
Alexander  are  conspicuously  absent. 

Then  came  another  change,  brought  about  by  the 
death  of  Alexander. 

The  Generals,  who  sought  to  divide  among  them- 
selves the  inheritance  of  the  great  Conqueror's  empire, 
proclaimed  the  independence  of  the  Greek  states,  in 
the  hope  of  gaining  popularity  and  prestige,  and 
Delos   was   thus  enabled  again  to  escape  from  the 


THE   HOLY   ISLAND.  167 

dominion  of  Athens.  She  did  more;  she  became  a 
political  power,  making  herself,  on  the  strength  of 
her  ancient  name  and  sacred  associations,  the  centre 
of  an  ^gean  confederacy.  It  could  not  be  said 
that  the  island  became  absolutely  independent;  that 
it  could  hardly  be,  possessing  as  it  did  no  resources 
of  its  own,  and  commanding  no  naval  or  military 
strength.  Nevertheless  Delos  was  a  power;  the 
rival  monarchies  which  had  divided  among  themselves 
the  empire  of  Alexander  in  turns  courted,  and,  when 
occasion  demanded,  protected  her,  made  use  of  her 
religious  prestige,  and  availed  themselves  of  her 
central  position  for  the  purposes  of  commerce. 

The  first  power,  however,  to  «nter  into  friendly 
relations  with  the  Sacred  Island  was  not  one  of  the 
monarchies  set  up  by  Alexander's  generals,  but  the 
Republic  of  Rhodes.  Rhodes,  gifted  with  a  magnifi- 
cent climate — it  was  the  island  of  the  Sun-god  and 
never,  it  was  said,  missed  for  a  whole  day  the  sight 
of  his  face— and  a  fertile  soil,  had  been  wealthy 
from  the  earliest  times.  But  it  owed  its  greatness, 
at  least  in  a  large  measure,  to  the  political  foresight 
of  its  people.  Towards  the  end  of  the  fifth  century 
its  three  cities,  putting  aside,  with  an  abnegation 
rare  in  Greek  history,  their  passion  for  independence, 
combined  to  make  one  powerful  metropolis  to  which 
the  name  of  the  island  was  given.  For  the  next 
aighty    years    Rhodes    sided,    as   policy   seemed   to 


168  THE   HOLY   ISLAND. 

dictate,  with  one  or  other  of  the  powers  that  con- 
tended for  mastery  in  the  iE^ean,  with  Athens, 
with  Sparta,  with  Thebes,  even  with  the  Carian 
princes  of  Halicarnassus.  *  It  had  to  submit  to 
Alexander,  and  to  receive  a  Macedonian  garrison. 
This  it  expelled  after  the  conqueror's  death,  and  it 
resisted  all  efforts  to  subdue  it.  The  repulse  of  Deme- 
trius, surnamed  Poliorcetes  or  besieger  of  cities,  after 
a  siege  which  lasted  for  a  whole  year,  was  particu- 
larly famous.  This  was  the  power  then  that  first 
supported — it  is  possible  that  it  may  even  have 
suggested  the  confederacy  of — Delos.  The  inscriptions 
found  in  the  island,  which  are,  indeed,  the  chief 
authorities  for  its  history,  record  magnificent  presents 
sent  by  the  Rhodian  Republic  to  the  Temple  of 
Apollo,  and  honours  bestowed  by  the  Delians  in 
return  on  eminent  Rhodian  citizens.  Rhodes  had 
been  on  friendly  terms  with  the  Greek  kings  of 
Egypt.  We  find,  for  instance,  that  among  the  con- 
ditions on  which  Demetrius  raised  the  siege,  was  the 

*  Mausolus  (374 — 353  B  C),  known  by  the  splendid  tomb 
which  his  sister,  widow,  and  successor  Artemisia  (353—350) 
erected  to  his  memory.  Halicarnassus  had  once  been  one  of 
the  six  cities  which,  together  with  the  three  cities  of  Rhodes, 
formed  the  Dorian  Hexapolis.  It  fell  into  the  power  of  the 
Carians,  but  seems  to  have  retained  its  Greek  character. 
Herodotus  the  historian  was  a  native  of  this  town,  but  seems 
not  to  have  been  on  friendly  terms  with  his  fellow-citizens. 


THE    HOLY   ISLAND.  169 

stipulation  that  the  Rhorlians  should  help  him  in  any 
enterprise  that  he  might  undertake,  except  against 
Egypt.  It  was  Egypt  that  succeeded  to  Rhodes  in 
the  patronage  of  Delos.  Delos  was  even  more 
essential  to  the  trade  of  Egypt,  lying,  as  the  latter 
country  does,  far  away  in  the  south-east  of  the 
Mediterranean,  than  it  had  been  to  Rhodes.  The 
Ptolemies,  accordingly,  were  liberal  in  their  gifts  to 
the  Delian  Apollo,  while  they  protected  the  island 
and  even  collected  its  revenues.  The  Delians,  on 
the  other  hand,  instituted  festivals  which  they  called 
after  their  patrons'  names,  and  erected  statues  in  their 
honour.  Not  only  royal  personages,  but  officers  of 
state  and  naval  and  military  commanders,  even  such 
minor  personages  as  the  king's  physician  or  the 
director  of  the  Great  Library  were  complimented  in 
this  way. 

Egypt,  however,  did  not  monopolize  the  favour  of 
the  islanlors.  The  rival  powers  of  Syria  and 
Macedonia  made  advances  to  the  priesthood  of  Apollo, 
and  these  advances  were  graciously  received.  Delos 
regarded  all  these  powers  with  a  benevolent  neutrality, 
opened  her  port  to  their  fleets,  and  received  their 
gifts  with  absolute  impartiality.  Complimentary 
inscriptions,  statues,  and  festivals  were  at  the  service 
of  the  Antiochi  of  Syria  and  the  Philippi  of  Macedonia, 
and  of  their  ministers  or  favourites.  Towards  the 
end  of  the  third  century,  indeed,  Egypt  was  superseded 


170  THE   HOLY   ISLAND. 

f 

by  Macedonia  in  the  place  of  chief  patron  and 
protector;  in  the  beginning  of  the  second,  Rhodes 
regained  her  old  supremacy. 

But  now  a  new  power  appeared  upon  the  scene. 
Rome,  after  passing  successfully  through  the  long 
struggle  of  the  Second  Punic  War,  began  to  push 
her  conquests  in  the  East.  Antiochus  III.  of  Syria 
received  a  crushing  defeat  at  Magnesia,  in  190  B.C. 
Twenty-two  years  afterwards  the  Macedonian  kingdom 
came  to  an  end  at  the  fatal  battle  of  Pydna.  Roman 
trade  followed  Roman  conquest,  and  was  not  slow 
in  perceiving  the  natural  advantages  of  the  place. 
The  commercial  importance  of  the  island  rapidly 
recovered,  till  in  166  B.C.  it  was  declared  a  free 
port.  This  proceeding  gave  a  vast  impetus  to  its 
trade,  chiefly  at  the  expense  of  its  old  patron  Rhodes, 
whose  customs  revenue  sank  in  three  years  from 
J35,000  to  scarcely  ,£6,000.  But  it  was  the  place, 
not  the  people,  that  enjoyed  this  prosperity.  The 
Roman  capitalists,  selfish  and  unscrupulous  as  ever, 
procured,  along  with  the  decree  that  made  the  island 
a  free  port,  the  expulsion  of  the  inhabitants. 

Twenty  years  afterwards  the  trade  of  Delos  was 
largely  increased  by  the  fall  of  Corinth.  This  great 
trading  rival  removed — indeed,  it  was  a  century  before 
Corinth  rose  from  her  ruins— the  Island  enjoyed  some- 
thing like  a  monopoly  of  the  Mediterranean  trade. 
The  exports  of  the  East,  spices  and  fruits,  gems  and 


I 


THE    HOLY   ISLAND.  171 

ivory,  besides  works  of  Greek  art,  filled  her  markets. 
When  in  133  Asia  *  became  a  Roman  province,  this 
commerce  was  enormously  increased,  for  Asia,  which 
Tacitus  describes  as  still  rich  after  it  had  suffered 
two  centuries  of  spoliation,  was  then  wealthy  beyond 
description.  No  branch  of  trade,  it  is  probable,  was 
more  lucrative  than  the  slave  market,  in  which,  it  is 
said,  as  many  as  ten  thousand  were  sometimes  sold 
in  the  course  of  a  single  day.  The  Roman  capitalists, 
as  time  went  on,  shared  with  other  nations,  doubt- 
less for  satisfactory  considerations,  the  vast  business 
which  found  a  centre  in  the  island.  As  early  as 
150  B.C.  the  merchants  of  Tyre  had  a  corporation 
there  under  the  protection  of  Hercules  ;  while  Jews, 
Syrians,  and  Egyptians  had  factories  of  their  own.  It 
was  a  meeting  place,  we  may  say,  for  the  trade  of 
the  civilized  world. 

The  end  to  this  prosperity  came  in  the  first  half 
of  the  first  century  B.C.  In  the  year  87,  Arsaces, 
one  of  the  generals  of  Mithridates,  king  of  Pontus, 
sacked  the  island.  The  pirates,  whose  ravages  in 
the  Mediterranean  were  hardly  checked  till  Pompey's 
masterly  strategy  cjjiared  them  out  of  it,  completed 
the  ruin  thus  begun.  At  the  beginning  of  the  Chris- 
tian era  the  island  was  almost  deserted.  To-day,  it 
affords  pasture  to  a  few  sheep,  and  is  inhabited,  for 

♦  By  Asia  is  meant  North-western  Asia  Minor. 


172  THE    HOLY    ISLAND. 

a  part  at  least  of  the  year,  by  the  shepherds  who 
tend  them. 

A  few  years  ago  there  seemed  to  be  a  chance  that 
commerce,  which  is  ever  changing  its  routes,  might 
give  it  back  something  of  its  old  prosperity.  When 
steam-ships  first  began  to  traverse  the  Mediterranean, 
and  it  was  necessary  to  find  a  stopping-place  for 
them,  the  rival  claims  of  Delos  and  Syra  (the  ancient 
Syros)  were  considered.  Syra  was  chosen,  and  the 
place,  which  was  then  almost  uninhabited,  now  num- 
bers nearly  fifty  thousand  inhabitants. 

I  shall  now  attempt  to  give  some  account  of  the 
appearance  of  the  Sacred  Island  as  it  appeared  to  a 
visitor,  say  in  the  earlier  half  of  the  second  century 
before  our  era.  Approaching,  let  us  suppose,  from 
the  west,  he  enters  the  Sacred  Harbour,  and  sees 
before  him  a  terrace  fronting  the  sea.  Behind  the 
terrace  is  the  Temple  of  Apollo,  and  behind  the  Temple, 
again,  rises  the  famous  hill  of  Cynthus,  celebrated  in 
all  praises  and  prayers  addressed  to  the  twin  children 
of  Latona.  The  slopes  of  the  hill  are  covered  with 
buildings,  sacred  and  secular,  whose  white  marble  walls 
stand  out  against  the  green  foliage  of  the  Sacred  Wood. 
He  lands  on  the  left  or  north  side  of  the  harbour, 
and  passing  through  a  stately  portico  finds  himself 
in  an  open  space  adorned  with  statues.  On  his  left 
hand  is  the  Commercial,  on  his  right  the  Sacred  City. 
Determining  first  to  visit  the  latter  he  passes  under 


THE   HOLY   ISLAND  178 

a  stately  gate,  formed  of  Doric  columns,  which  the 
city  of  Athens  had  given  to  Apollo  in  the  days  of 
its  supremacy.  A  road  leads  up  to  the  Temple  of 
the  chief  Delian  god.  It  is  lined  on  either  side  with 
statues,  some  of  them  heing  among  the  finest  products 
of  Greek  art.  The  Temple  itself  is  a  small  building, 
measuring  only  a  hundred  and  four  feet  by  forty-four. 
But  it  is  of  the  finest  Parian  marble  and  exquisitely 
proportioned.  This  also  the  Delians  owe  to  the  munifi- 
cence of  the  Athenians,  who  built  it  when  they  recovered 
their  hold  of  the  island,  early  in  the  fourth  century. 
It  is  in  the  Doric  style,  but  its  columns  are  not  fluted. 
On  the  left  or  north  of  Apollo's  shrine  is  the  chapel 
of  his  mother,  and  on  the  north  of  this  again,  that 
of  Aphrodite.  In  a  partial  semi-circle  round  the 
shrine  are  the  Treasuries,  crowded  with  the  offerings 
of  the  munificent  piety  of  Greater  Greece.  The 
enclosure  and  shrine  of  Artemis  lie  more  to  the  west. 
The  whole  of  the  consecrated  shore  is  surrounded  by 
a  finely-finished  granite  wall.  It  abounds  with  statues, 
altars,  halls,  and  colonnades,  the  "  Portico  of  Philip, ' 
king  of  Macedonia  (220 — 179),  being  conspicuous 
among  these  last  for  magnitude  and  beauty;  whDe 
the  most  striking,  if  not  the  most  beautiful  of  the 
statues  is  the  Colossus  presented  by  the  island  of 
Naxos.  If  the  traveller  desires  to  find  a  lodging  he 
can  be  accommodated  in  one  of  the  hostelries  which 
line  almost  the   whole   of  the  enclosing  wall.     The 


174  THE   HOLY    ISLAND. 

hospitality  of  the  priests  is  supposed  to  be  gratuitous, 
but  he  is  expected  to  make  some  proportionate 
offering. 

The  wonders  and  beauties  of  the  Sacred  City 
having  been  viewed,  the  visitor  turns  his  steps  to  the 
commercial  quarter.  This  indeed  lies  on  both  sides 
of  the  consecrated  enclosure,  but  its  most  stately 
buildings  are  to  be  found  on  the  north  side  of  the 
island,  conspicuous  among  them  being  what,  to  use 
a  modem  phrase,  we  may  call  the  Roman  factory  or 
"  Schola  Romanorum; "  if  he  has  a  friend  among  the 
resident  merchants,  he  will  probably  find  that  he 
has  a  residence  on  the  western  slope  of  Mount 
Cynthus. 

This  is  a  sketch  of  what  the  labours  of  archaBolo- 
gical  explorers  have  discovered  among  the  ruins  of 
Delos.  All  the  treasures  of  the  island  have  disap- 
peared. Nothing  of  consequence  in  either  gold  or 
silver  has  been  found,  and  not  a  single  specimen  of 
the  precious  Delian  bronze  in  which  the  great  sculptor 
Myron  was  accustomed  to  work.  Only  fragments  of 
the  statues  remain.  For  centuries,  indeed,  the  place 
was  used  as  a  quarry.  The  Knights  of  St.  John 
fortified  Malta  with  marble  from  its  ruins;  the  church 
of  Tenos  was  built  from  Delian  materials,  Greek 
houses  and  Turkish  courts  were  constructed  out  of 
the  inexhaustible  store.  But  the  plan  of  the  buildings 
can  be  traced,  and  in  some  cases  the  elevation  restored. 


THE   HOLY   ISLAND.  175 

But  the  most  precious  survival  of  all  is  the  magnificent 
collection  of  inscriptions.  These  number  more  than 
fifteen  hundred,  and  furnish  us  with  a  record,  such 
as  literature  proper  does  not  attempt  to  give,  of  the 
'  Saered  Island  *  and  its  people. 


CHAPTER  XVL 

TEE  FATE  OF  PLAT^A. 

THERE  is  somotliing  peculiarly  pathetic  in  the 
story  of  Platsea,  of  its  steadfast  fidelity  to 
Athens,  and  of  its  unhappy  fate.  Of  course  this 
fidelity  was  not  a  mere  matter  of  sentiment.  The 
smaller  community  had,  or  supposed  itself  to  have, 
good  reasons  for  throwing  in  its  lot  with  its  power- 
ful neighbour.  It  profoundly  disliked  Thebes,  the  city 
which  claimed  its  allegiance,  but  had  no  means  of 
asserting  its  freedom,  except  by  claiming  the  pro- 
tection of  Athens.  The  benefits  which  earned  its 
gratitude  were  of  a  substantial  kind,  but  the  way 
in  which  the  gratitude  was  shown  can  scarcely  fail 
to  affect  us  with  both  admiration  and  pity, 

Platsea  (the  word  has  also  a  plural  form  "  Plataeee ") 
was  situated  at  the  foot  of  the  northern  slopes  of 
Mount  Cithseron,  near  a  branch  of  the  river  Asopus, 
by  which  its  territory  was  separated  from  that  of 
Thebes.    The  name  appears  in  the  Homeric  catalogue 


THE    FATE    OP    PLAT^A.  177 

of  the  Boeotian  cities.  It  was  claimed  by  Thebes 
as  a  colony  ;  the  Plataeans  themselves  traced  back 
their  origin  to  a  time  more  remote  than  the  foun- 
dation of  what  called  itself  their  mother  city.  While 
Thebes  was  built  by  the  Phoenician  Cadmus  they 
claimed  as  their  founder  Plataea,  *  daughter  of  the 
river  God  Asopus.  Causes  of  quarrel  about  which 
we  possess  no  special  information  arose  between  the 
two,  and  the  Plataeans  watched  for  an  opportunity 
of  bringing  about  a  change  in  their  relation  to  the 
sovereign  city.  This  came  shortly  after  the  expulsion 
of  the  family  of  Peisistratus  from  Athens.  The 
Spartan  army,  which  under  the  constraint  of  a  divine 
bidding,  but  much  against  the  popular  feeling,  had 
assisted  in  this  work,  was  on  its  way  home,  when 
some  envoys  from  Plataea  sought  an  interview  with 
king  Cleomenes.  They  claimed  the  protection  of 
Sparta  against  Thebes,  surrendering  at  the  same  time 
both  their  city  and  their  territory.  Cleomenes  declined 
the  offer  on  behalf  of  his  countrymen.  Sparta,  he 
said,  was  too  remote  from  Plataea  to  give  help  as 
speedily  as  it  might  be  wanted.  They  had  better 
go  and  seek  protection  from  Athens  which  was  nearer 
and  would  give  more  effectual  protection.  The  ad- 
vice was  good  enough,  but  it  was  not  meant  in  a 
friendly   spirit,  as  far  at  least  as  Athens  was  con- 

•  The   name,    in    its    plural   form,    may    mean    the    "  Broad 
Streets,"  something  like  our  English  "  Broadway." 

12 


178  THE    FATE   OP   PLAT^A. 

cerned.  The  Spartan  king  was  shrewd  enough  to  see 
that  an  alliance  with  a  Boeotian  town,  little  more 
than  five  miles  distant  from  Thebes,  would  give  rise 
to  perpetual  quarrels,  and  would  be  a  source  of 
weakness  rather  than  of  strength;  and  this,  indeed, 
was  the  res  jilt.  To  the  Plataeans,  however,  the 
advice  was  most  welcome.  They  sent  envoys  to 
Athens,  who,  taking  the  opportunity  of  a  public 
sacrifice,  seated  themselves  as  suppliants  at  the 
altar,  surrendered  their  city  and  territory,  and 
implored  protection  against  Thebes.  The  appeal 
was  successful,  and  when  Thebes,  resenting  the 
defection  of  a  dependent,  sent  a  force  to  restore 
her  authority,  Athens  marched  to  assist  her  new 
ally.  The  Corinthians  offered  their  mediation,  and 
the  case  was  referred  to  their  arbitration.  Their 
decision  was  that  the  Thebans  had  no  right  to  compel 
the  Boeotian  cities  to  remain  in  the  league.  The 
defeated  party  refused  to  abide  by  this  judgment, 
which,  indeed,  was  fatal  to  their  position,  and  attacked 
the  Athenians.  They  were  defeated  and  were  punished 
by  the  loss  of  some  of  their  territory.  ♦ 

•  According  to  the  chronology  of  Thucydides  these  events 
took  place  in  the  year  519  B.C.  (He  says  that  the  capture  oi 
Platsea  in  429  took  place  in  the  93rd  year  of  its  alliance  with 
Athens.)  Mr.  Grote  gives  good  reasons  for  thinking  that  this  is 
some  error.  In  519  Hippias  was  despot  at  Athens,  and  it  would 
hardly    have    suited    the   policy    of  a  despot  to  encourage  the 


I 


THE  PATE  OP  PLAT-SA.  179 

Nineteen  years  after  the  conclusion  of  the  alliance 
(if  we  accept  the  date  suggested  below)  Plataea 
rendered  substantial  help  to  Athens  at  the  critical 
moment  when  she  had  to  defend  herself  from  the 
Persian  invaders.  The  chance  that  in  479  made  the 
Plataean  territory  the  scene  of  the  final  defeat  of  the 
Persian  army,  turned  out  greatly  to  the  advantage 
of  the  city.  It  was  rebuilt  at  the  expense  of  the 
allies;  a  special  grant  of  eighty  talents  was  made  to 
it,  which  was  expended  in  the  erection  of  a  temple 
to  Athene,  and  its  citizens  were  charged  with  the 
duty  of  maintaining  the  burial  places  of  the  Greeks 
who  had  fallen  in  the  battle,  of  paying  them  funeral 
honour,  and  of  celebrating,  every  fifth  year,  the  festival 
of  Freedom.*    In  return  for  their  services  the  allied 

revolt  of  a  dependent,  for  his  superior.  If  we  change  93rd  to 
83rd  we  arrive  at  the  year  509,  a  more  probable  date,  as  the 
change  of  government  at  Athens  would  encourage  the  PlatsDans 
in  their  resolve  to  revolt. 

*  "On  the  16th  of  the  month  Maimacterion  (about  equivalent 
to  the  16th  of  November)  a  procession  led  by  a  trumpeter,  who 
blew  the  signal  for  battle,  marched  through  the  middle  of  the 
town.  It  was  followed  by  waggons  loaded  with  myrtle  boughs 
and  chaplets,  by  a  black  bull,  and  by  free  youths,  who  carried 
the  vessels  containing  the  libations  for  the  dead.  No  slave 
was  permitted  to  minister  on  this  occasion.  At  the  end  of 
this  procession  followed  the  archon  of  Plataea,  who  was  not 
allowed  at  any  other  time  during  his  office  to  touch  a  weapon, 
or  to  wear  any  other  but  white  garments,  now  wearing  a 
purple  tunic,  with  a  sword  in  his  hand,  and  also  bearing  an  urn. 


180  THE    FATE    OP    PLAT^A. 

Greeks  guaranteed  the  independence  and  individuality 
of  the  city  and  of  its  surrounding  territory.  The 
Plataeans  continued  to  discharge  their  duties  as  cus- 
todians of  the  battle-field  with  sufficient  regularity, 
though  Herodotus  charges  them  with  having  allowed 
for  a  consideration,  cities  which  had  really  taken  no 
part  in  the  battle,  to  erect  fictitious  tombs.  The 
victory  was  really  won,  as  will  be  seen  from  Chapter 
VII,  by  the  Spartans,  Athenians  and  Arcadians. 

The  breaking  out  of  the  Peloponnesian  war,  had, 
as  might  have  been  expected,  a  fatal  influence  on  the 
fortunes  of  Plataea.  The  town  was,  indeed,  the  scene 
of  the  first  blow  that  was  struck  in  this  long  and 
disastrous  struggle.  The  occasion  was  remarkably 
characteristic  of  Greek  life.  Plataea,  like  almost  all 
Greek  towns,  was  divided  between  two  factions,  the 
aristocrats,  who  desired  to  re-enter  the  Boeotian  League, 
under  the  supremacy  of  Thebes,  and  at  the  same  time  to 
establish  their  own  supremacy,  and  the  democrats  who 
were  in  favour  of  maintaining  the  Athenian  alliance. 

kept  for  this  purpose  in  the  public  archives.  When  the  pro- 
cession came  to  the  place  where  the  Greeks  who  had  fallen  at 
Plataea  were  buried,  the  archon  first  washed  and  anointed  the 
tombstones,  and  then  led  the  bull  to  a  hedge  and  sacrificed  it 
praying  to  Zeus  and  Hermes  Chthonius  (Hermes  of  the  Lower 
World,  held  to  be  the  conductor  of  the  dead),  and  inviting 
the  brave  men  who  had  fallen  in  the  defence  of  their  native 
country,  to  take  part  in  the  banquet  prepared  for  them.* 
(Smith's  Dictionary  of  Anti^UUt  p.  725—26). 


THE    FATE    OF    PLAT^A.  181 

The  former  plotted  with  their  friends  at  Thebes  a 
coup  d'Uat.  The  result  was  that  one  night  about  the 
end  of  March  in  the  year  431— hostilities  between 
Athens  and  Sparta  being  imminent  but  not  yet 
conunenced — a  body  of  three  hundred  Theban  heavy- 
armed,  under  the  command  of  two  chiefs  of  the 
Boeotian  League,  surprised  the  city.  The  gates  were 
opened  to  them  by  their  allies,  and  they  took  up  a 
position  in  the  market-place  of  the  city.  It  had  been 
arranged  that  a  large  force  should  follow  from  Thebes 
the  next  day. 

The  traitorous  Platseans  urged  on  their  Theban 
friends,  the  vigorous  policy  of  seizing  the  chiefs  of 
the  opposite  party.  The  Thebans,  feeling  some  scru- 
ples against  following  this  advice,  contented  them- 
selves with  proclaiming,  that  anyone  who  wished  to 
see  Plataea  return  to  her  ancient  membership  in  the 
Boeotian  League,  should  join  their  ranks.  The  first 
impulse  of  the  democrats  was  to  make  terms.  When, 
however,  they  found  that  the  force  which  had  occupied 
the  city  was  but  small,  they  resolved  to  attack  it. 
The  Thebans  were  taken  at  a  disadvantage ;  they  did 
not  know  the  localities;  they  had  been  exposed  all 
night  to  a  drenching  rain.  They  made,  however,  some 
resistance,  and  forming  themselves  in  military  order, 
repelled  for  a  time  their  assailants.  But  the  attack 
was  repeated  again  and  again,  while  the  women 
threw  tiles  from  the  roofs.    Then  they  attempted  flight, 


182  THE   FATE   OF   PLAT.EA. 

but  flight  was  difficult.  The  gate  by  which  they  had 
entered  had  been  shut,  a  Plataean  having  jammed 
the  place  from  which  the  bolt  had  been  broken  with 
the  bar  of  a  javelin.  A  few  escaped  by  jumping 
down  from  the  wall,  many  being  killed  in  the  attempt, 
others  escaped  by  an  unguarded  gate,  a  woman 
supplying  them  with  a  hatchet  with  which  to  cut 
through  the  bolt,  but  the  main  body  was  compelled 
to  capitulate. 

Meanwhile  the  reinforcements  from  Thebes  had  been 
delayed  by  the  rain  which  had  so  swollen  the  Asopus 
that  it  could  scarcely  be  forded.  Before  they  could 
arrive,  their  countrymen  within  the  walls  had  been 
captured. 

Of  what  followed  we  have  two  accounts.  The 
Thebans  declared  that  they  received  from  the  Platse- 
ans  the  assurance  that  if  they  would  abstain  from 
doing  any  hann  to  persons  or  property  which  might 
fall  into  their  hands,  the  prisoners  should  be  delivered 
up  to  them  unharmed.  The  Plataeans,  on  the  other 
hand,  denied  that  they  gave  any  such  engagement. 
All  that  they  promised  to  do  was  to  keep  the  fate 
of  their  captives  in  suspense  till  negotiations  should 
have  been  opened. 

This  promise,  unfortunately,  they  did  not  keep. 
They  had  sent  a  messenger  to  Athens,  as  soon  as 
they  became  aware  of  the  surprise  of  their  city;  and 
they  had  sent  a  second  with  an  account  of  the  capture 


THE  PATE   OP  PLAT^A.  183 

of  the  Theban  troops.  Pericles  at  once  grasped  the 
situation,  its  possibilities  and  its  dangers.  He  immedi- 
ately despatched  a  herald  who  was  to  bid  the  Platae- 
ans  take  no  steps  about  their  prisoners,  till  they 
should  have  consulted  their  allies.  Unhappily  the 
injunction  came  too  late.  Carried  away  by  resent- 
ment at  a  treacherous  and  unprovoked  attack,  the 
Plataeans  slaughtered  their  prisoners,  one  hundred 
and  eighty  in  number.  It  was  a  cruel  act  though 
not  transgressing  any  article  in  the  Greek  code  of 
war,  if  any  such  code  existed,  and  accounted  for  by 
a  great  provocation ;  and  it  was  a  fatal  mistake.  The 
prisoners  would  have  been  most  valuable  as  hostages, 
for  many  of  them  belonged  to  the  governing  class 
in  Thebes;  io  put  them  to  death  was  at  once  to 
free  the  hands  of  their  countrymen  and  to  give  them 
an  inexpiable  offence. 

For  two  years  the  PlataBans  were  left  unmolested. 
The  Thebans  had  not  sufficient  strength  of  their  own 
to  exact  the  revenge  for  which  they  longed,  and 
their  Peloponnesian  allies  were  unwilling  to  act.  The 
army  could,  it  was  thought,  be  more  profitably 
employed,  that  is,  in  ravaging  the  territory  of  Athens, 
and  there  was  probably  some  reluctance  to  attack  a 
town  that  was  protected  by  a  common  guarantee. 
In  the  third  year  of  the  war,  however,  when  it  had 
been  determined  not  to  repeat  the  invasion  of  Attica,* 

•  Infection  from  the  Plague  was  feared. 


184  THE    FATE    OF    PLAT^A. 

the  importunity  of  the  Thebans  prevailed,  and  Archi- 
damus  the  Spartan  king,  at  the  head  of  the  united 
Peloponnesian  force,  entered  the  Plataean  territory, 
and  began  to  lay  it  waste.  A  herald  from  the 
town,  from  which,  of  course,  this  proceeding  had  been 
watched,  came  forth,  and  addressed  him:  "  Archi- 
damus  and  ye  men  of  Lacedaemon,  ye  are  doing  that 
which  is  unworthy  both  of  you  and  of  your  fathers. 
Pausanias  the  son  of  Cleombrotus,  having  freed  Greece 
from  the  Persians,  assigned  to  the  Plataeans  this 
city  and  territory  to  hold  in  their  own  right,  so 
that  none  might  injure  them;  and  all  the  Greeks 
promised  that  if  any  should  so  do  they  would  protect 
us,  yet  ye  are  come  with  these  Thebans,  who  are 
our  worst  enemies,  to  enslave  us." 

To  this  appeal  Archidamus  replied :  *  We  also  are 
endeavouring  to  set  free  the  Greeks  from  their 
oppressors,  who  are  now  not  the  Persians  but  the 
Athenians.  In  this  endeavour  ye  ought  by  right  to 
join,  and  to  this  we  now  invite  you.  But  if  ye  cannot 
act  thus,  at  the  least  remain  quiet,  and  be  friends 
to  both,  helping  neither  in  matters  that  pertain  to 
war." 

This  invitation  to  neutrality  had  already  been  made 
to  the  Plataeans,  and  declined.  The  refusal  was  now 
repeated,  two  reasons  being  given,  first,  that  they 
could  not  act  without  the  consent  of  the  Athenians, 
in  whose  charge  they  had  put  their  wives  and  chil- 


I 


THE    FATE    OF   PLAT.EA.  185 

dren ;  second,  that  if  they  should  bind  themselves  to 
receive  both  parties  as  friends,  there  was  reason  to 
dread   another  treacherous  attack  from  the  Thebans. 

The  Spartan  king  replied  with  a  liberal  proposal 
which  does  the  highest  credit  to  his  justice  and  desire 
for  peace.  "Hand  over,"  he  said,  "your  city  and  all 
that  is  in  it  to  us;  take  an  account  of  all  your 
property,  and  then  go  wherever  you  please.  When 
the  war  is  over  we  will  restore  everything  to  you. 
Meanwhile  we  will  use  it  in  trust  for  you,  and  make 
you   an  annual  allowance  sufficient  for  your  needs." 

These  terms  were  so  attractive  that  a  majority  of 
the  Plataeans  were  disposed  to  accept.  This,  however, 
they  could  not  do,  without  first  obtaining  the  consent 
of  the  Athenians.  A  truce  was  obtained  from  Archi- 
damus,  and  a  messenger  was  sent  to  lay  the  facts 
before  the  authorities  at  Athens. 

If  the  Athenians  had  been  magnanimous,  they  would 
have  consented  to  their  old  allies  securing  for  them- 
selves terms  so  favourable.  But  the  temptation  to 
refuse  was  too  strong  for  them.  Plataea,  they  knew, 
would  hold  out  with  steadfast  determination,  and  so 
holding  out,  would  divert  the  whole  Peloponnesian 
force  from  any  attack  on  Attica.  This  diversion 
would  give  them  a  breathing  space,  and  would  be 
otherwise  of  great  advantage.  Accordingly  they 
answered  the  Platseans  in  some  such  terms  as  these : 
"  Men  of  Plataea,  we  have  never  yet  from  the  very  begm- 


186  THE   PATE   OP   PLATJ5A. 

ning  of  our  alliance,  suffered  you  to  be  wrong,  noi 
will  we  now  suffer  it.  To  the  best  of  our  power 
will  we  help  you;  do  you  therefore  keep  the  oaths 
which  your  fathers  swore  to  us  and  keep  the  alliance 
between  us." 

These  were  idle  words,  and  the  Athenians  could 
hardly  have  failed  to  know  that  they  were.  They 
had  never  ventured  to  face  the  Peloponnesian  army 
in  the  field,  nor  were  they  likely  to  venture  now; 
and  without  so  venturing  they  could  give  no  efficient 
help.  In  making  this  promise  they  could  have  had 
nothing  but  the  vaguest  hope  of  some  favourable 
chance  occurring.  As  it  turned  out  during  the  whole 
of  the  siege — and  it  lasted  almost  a  year — they  made 
no  attempt  to  relieve  the  blockaded  town. 

The  Plataeans  accepted  the  instructions  of  their 
ally  with  touching  loyalty  and  confidence.  Their 
herald  proclaimed  from  the  walls  to  the  Spartan  king, 
that  they  refused  to  accept  his  terms.  Archidamus 
replied  by  a  solemn  invocation  of  the  gods  and  heroes 
who  were  believed  to  inhabit  the  Plataean  territory. 
He  called  them  to  bear  witness  to  what  had  happened : 
that  the  Plataeans  had  broken  the  oaths  which  were 
common  to  them  and  to  Greece,  and  that  they  had 
refused  the  reasonable  terms  which  had  been  offered ; 
he  implored  the  protecting  power  to  punish  the 
wrong  doers,  to  help  those  who  were  contending  for 
the  cause  of  righteousness  and  justice. 


THE   FATE   OP   PLAT^A.  187 

The  siege  that  followed  is  one  of  the  most  re- 
markable that  have  been  recorded  in  history.  Had 
not  the  narrative  been  told  by  one  of  the  most 
exact  of  historians,  a  contemporary  who  must  have 
heard  the  story  from  some  of  those  who  were 
actors  in  the  scene,  it  might  well  have  been  pro- 
nounced incredible,  at  least  in  some  of  its  details.* 

The  Plataeans  had,  as  has  been  said  above,  sent 
away  their  families.  The  garrison  numbered  four 
hundred  and  eighty,  of  whom  eighty  were  Athenians. 
The  only  non-combatants  in  the  town  were  one 
hundred  and  ten  women  slaves,  who  acted  as  cooks. 

The  Peloponnesians  began  by  constructing,  out  of 
the  fruit-trees  which  they  cut  down  in  the  neighbouring 
gardens  and  farms,  a  palisade,  which  enclosed  the 
town.  Their  next  proceeding  was  to  make  a  mound 
of  timber  and  earth  against  part  of  the  town- wall, 
their  object  being  to  form  a  slope  by  which  it  might 
easily  be  scaled.  The  forests  of  Mount  Cithaeron 
furnished  abundance  of  timber,  which,  together  with 
quantities  of  stones  and  earth,  was  piled  up  in  heaps, 

•  Sir  George  Cox  does  express  himself  to  this  effect.  But 
it  is  difficult  to  see  what  historical  narrative  is  to  be  trusted, 
if  we  have  to  disbelieve  one  written  by  one  who  had  all  the 
qualifications  of  Thucydides.  He  had  consummate  ability;  he 
had  no  motive  for  perverting  the  truth,  he  was  living  within 
a  few  miles  of  the  place  where  the  events  happened;  he  had 
opportunities  of  hearing  the  story  at  first  hand.  All  evidence 
becanes  valueless,  if  his  is  to  be  rejected. 


188  THE   PATE   OP   PLAT^A. 

kept  together  by  supports,  attached  to  the  wall.  The 
army  carried  on  this  work  for  more  than  two  weeks, 
labouring  day  and  night  in  shifts  which  relieved 
each  other.  At  the  end  of  this  time  the  mound  was 
very  nearly  on  a  level  with  the  top  of  the  town- 
wall.  The  answering  move  of  the  Plataeans  was  to 
erect  on  the  part  of  the  wall  that  was  threatened 
by  this  attack,  a  superstructure  of  wood,  strengthened 
by  bricks  behind  it.  The  front  was  protected  from 
fire  by  hides  raw  and  dressed.  The  besiegers  pro- 
ceeded to  raise  the  mound  to  the  height  of  the 
additional  defence;  this  was  met  by  the  Plataeans 
excavating  a  hole  in  their  own  wall,  and  carrying 
away  the  earth  from  the  lower  part  of  the  mound, 
thus  causing  it  to  fall  in  below  as  fast  as  it  was 
raised  above.  The  Peloponnesians  filled  up  the  ex- 
cavated places  with  stiff  clay,  enclosed  in  wattled 
reeds,  which  could  not  be  easily  removed,  the  besieged 
mined  the  ground  still  lower  down,  so  that  the 
-mound  continued  to  sink  underneath  as  fast  as  it 
was  added  to  from  above.  At  the  same  time,  in 
anticipation  of  a  time  when  their  counterwork  should 
cease  to  protect  them,  they  built  a  new  portion  of 
town- wall,  carrying  it  inwards  from  the  extremities 
of  the  part  against  which  the  mound  had  been  piled. 
Battering  rams  were  brought  to  bear  against  the 
fortifications,  old  and  new,  the  latter  being  specially 
endangered    by    them.     The    besieged    contrived   to 


THE    FATE   OP   PLATJEA.  189 

neutralize  their  effect.  The  heads  of  some  they  pulled 
out  of  the  straight  line  by  ropes,  which  they  let  down 
over  them;  others  they  broke  off  by  heavy  beams, 
which  they  let  down  upon  them.  Fire,  of  course,  was 
tried.  Combustibles,  in  large  quantities,  were  thrown 
into  the  space  between  the  mound  and  the  concave 
wall,  and  also,  as  far  as  they  could  reach,  into  the 
city  itself.  A  huge  conflagration  was  raised,  and  for 
a  time  Plataea  was  in  danger  of  being  burnt  to  the 
ground.  If  the  wind  had  continued  to  blow  as 
strongly  and  from  the  same  quarter  as  it  did  when 
the  attempt  was  made,  the  result  must  have  been 
fatal.  But  it  either  shifted  or  fell;  according  to  one 
account,  an  opportune  thunderstorm  extinguished  the 
flames. 

The  difficulties  in  this  account  are  obvious.  We 
may  suppose,  indeed,  that  the  besieged  found  plenty 
of  materials  in  the  vacant  portions  of  the  town. 
Plataea  had  evidently  shrunk  greatly  during  the  sixty 
odd  years  which  had  intervened  between  the  day  of 
Marathon,  ^hen  they  had  sent  a  thousand  warriors 
to  join  the  Athenian  army,  and  the  siege,  when  their 
able-bodied  men  numbered  but  a  few  over  four  hun- 
dred. And  now  the  departure  of  all  the  non-com- 
batant population  must  have  left  available  for  the 
construction  of  new  defences  a  large  quantity  of  bricks, 
stone,  and  timber.  But  how  could  the  strength  of  less 
than    five    hundred   men   have   held   out  against  the 


190  THE   FATE   OP   PLAT^A. 

exertions  of  an  enemy,  which  must  have  exceeded 
them  twenty  or  thirty  times  at  the  very  least  ?  Why 
did  not  the  Lacedaemonians  attempt  a  direct  assault? 
How  could  the  great  circuit  of  the  walls  have  been 
defended  by  so  scanty  forces,  occupied  as  these  were, 
at  the  same  time,  by  works  so  laborious?* 

The  result  of  all  these  operations  and  counter- 
operations  was,  that  the  besiegers  abandoned  all  hope 
of  taking  the  town  either  by  assault  or  mine,  and 
settled  down  to  the  tedious  task  of  reducing  it  by 
blockade. 

Two  distinct  walls  were  constructed,  sixteen  feet 
apart.  The  space  between  the  two  was  covered  and 
filled  up  for  the  reception  of  the  besieging  force 
which  consisted  of  Boeotian  and  Peloponnesian  troops 
in  equal  parts.  Two  ditches  were  also  excavated — 
the  earth  dug  out  furnished,  in  fact,  the  material 
out  of  which  the  bricks  were  made— one  of  them 
inside,  the  other  outside  the  walls,  and  severally 
intended  to  prevent  the  exit  of  the  enemy,  or  the 
entry  of  a  relieving  force.    These  lines  of  circura- 

•  A  simple  calculation  will  show  as  that  the  available  forces 
must  have  been  wholly  inadequate.  Allowing  that  two  thirds 
of  the  garrison,  i.e.  three  hundred  and  twenty  men,  could  have 
been  always  available,  these  would  have  had  to  patrol  seven 
miles  and  a  half  of  wall,  besides  carrying  on  a  laborious  system 
of  countermining.  No  story  more  difficult  to  believe  and  yet 
supported  by  evidence  so  strong  has  ever  been  told. 


THE   PATE   OP   PLAT^A.  191 

vallation  were  completed  about  the  middle  of  Sep- 
tember. In  three  months*  time  the  object  aimed  at 
was  accomplished.  Famine  had  become  so  severe  in 
the  town  that  it  was  impossible  to  hold  out  any 
longer.  Under  these  circumstances,  the  general  in 
command  proposed  an  attempt  to  escape,  and  was 
strongly  backed  by  the  prophet  Theasnetus,  who  may 
be  described  as  the  religious  adviser  of  the  garrison. 
This  had  been  reduced  by  this  time  to  four  hundred 
and  twenty-four  men.  A  plan  was  concerted,  but  at 
the  last  moment,  half  of  this  number,  overwhelmed  by 
the  difficulties  in  the  way  of  its  execution,  renounced 
the  attempt. 

It  has  been  said  that  the  town  was  enclosed  with 
a  double  wall,  or  rather  two  walls  made  into  one  by 
a  covering.  Each  of  these  two  was  furnished  with 
battlements,  and  at  each  tenth  battlement  there  was 
a  roofed  tower,  taking  up  the  whole  breadth  of  the 
wall  structure,  but  with  a  passage  in  the  centre. 
It  was  the  custom  of  the  besiegers  to  patrol  thQ 
whole  length  of  the  walls  at  night,  but  the  sentries 
sometimes  used  to  retire  under  the  shelter  of  the 
towers  when  the  weather  was  wet  or  stormy.  Such 
a  night  the  Plataeans  chose  for  their  attempt.  It 
was  nearly  mid- winter;  there  was  furious  wind, 
carrying  with  it  rain  and  sleet,  and  no  moon.  They 
carried  with  them  ladders  of  a  length  calculated  to 
the    height    of  the    investing  wall    (ascertained    by 


192  THE    FATE    OF    PLATvEA. 

repeated  counting  of  the  layers  of  bricks),  and  were 
lightly  armed,  some  with  shields  and  spears,  others 
with  breastplates,  javelins,  and  bows  and  arrows. 
One  foot  only  was  shod,  the  other  being  naked,  to 
give  it  a  firmer  hold  on  the  muddy  ground.  They 
moved  with  the  wind  in  their  faces,  so  that  any 
sound  they  might  make  might  be  carried  away,  and 
were  careful  not  to  be  so  close  together  as  to  let 
their  arms  clash.  They  crossed  the  inner  ditch 
without  being  discovered.  This  done,  some  of  them 
climbed  the  wall,  took  possession  of  two  of  the 
towers,  the  guards  in  which  they  surprised  and  slew 
without  arousing  their  comrades,  and  so  secured  a 
place  over  which  the  whole  body  might  pass.  Almost 
all  had  mounted  on  the  wall  when  one  of  them 
disturbed  a  tile,  and  so  betrayed  what  was  going  on 
to  the  besiegers.  An  alarm  was  raised,  and  the 
garrison  hurried  up  to  the  top  of  the  wall,  but  did 
not  know  the  precise  spot  to  which  they  ought  to 
turn.  At  the  same  time  the  remainder  of  the  besieged 
made  a  diversion  by  a  feigned  sally  on  the  opposite 
side  of  the  town.  Fire  signals  were  raised  to  give 
notice  at  Thebes  that  help  was  wanted.  But  here 
also  the  besieged  caused  some  perplexity  by  raising 
signals  of  their  own. 

Meanwhile  the  escaping  Plataeans  had  climbed  the 
wall,  crossed  it,  descended  on  the  other  side,  and 
even  crossed  the  outer  ditch,  though  this  they  found 


THE  FATE   OF  PLATiEA.  193 

covered  with  a  thin  coat  of  ice,  unusually  full  of 
water.  Reaching  the  other  side,  they  drew  them- 
selves up  in  line,  and  kept  in  check  with  showers  of 
arrows  and  javelins  the  only  body  of  the  enemy 
which  found  itself  in  a  position  to  attack.  This  was  a 
body  of  three  hundred,  which  had  been  specially  set 
apart  for  emergencies.  It  is  probable  that  they  had  at 
first  set  off  in  a  wrong  direction ;  anyhow,  when  they 
came  up  they  found  the  escape  almost  accomplished. 
There  remained  on  the  wall  only  those  who  had 
first  mounted  it,  and  had  secured  and  held  the  towers, 
while  their  comrades  were  coming.  The  three  hundred 
besiegers  held  torches  in  their  hands,  and  so  offered  a 
fair  mark  to  the  Plataeans.  Confused  by  the  missiles 
sent  among  them,  and  not  seeing  their  adversaries,  they 
remained  stationary,  giving  time  for  the  rest  of  the 
Plataeans  to  join  their  comrades.  Before  they  could 
recover  themselves,  the  fugitives  had  disappeared  in 
the  darkness.  They  put  their  pursuers  on  a  wrong 
scent  by  taking  at  first  the  road  to  Thebes;  after 
pursuing  this  for  something  less  than  a  mile,  they 
turned  off  to  the  east,  and  taking  a  compass,  made 
their  way  unharmed  to  Athens.  One  man  was 
unlucky  enough  to  be  captured,  three  or  four  lost 
heart  and  turned  back,  the  whole  number  that  escaped 
was  two  hundred  and  twelve.  Those  who  turned 
back  reported  to  their  countrymen  in  the  town  that 
their  comrades  had  perished  in  the  attempt.     These 

13 


194  THE    FATE    OF    PLAT^A. 

accordingly  sent  a  herald  to  beg  their  bodies  for 
burial ;  it  was  from  the  answer  which  he  received 
that  they  learnt  for  the  first  time,  not,  we  may  be 
sure,  without  feelings  of  regret  for  their  own  want 
of  decision,  the  success  of  the  enterprise. 

For  some  six  or  seven  months  more  the  town  con- 
tinued to  hold  out.  Then,  the  stock  of  provisions 
being  entirely  exhausted,  it  capitulated.  The  besiegers 
could,  of  course,  have  easily  taken  it  by  storm — 
indeed  the  garrison  even  in  its  full  strength  could 
hardly  have  resisted  an  assault — but  the  Spartan 
government  gave  strict  orders  that  this  should  not  be 
done.  Their  motive  was  this,  that  when  peace  came  to 
be  concluded,  as  it  probably  would,  on  the  condition  that 
towns  and  territory  taken  by  either  side  should  be 
restored,  Plataea  would  not  come  under  this  descrip- 
tion. A  town  voluntarily  surrendered  would  not  be 
considered  to  have  been  "taken."  The  distinction 
seems  to  us  exceedingly  sophistical,  in  view  of  such 
sun*ender  being  compelled  by  pressure  of  famine,  but 
it  was  recognized  by  public  opinion  at  the  time. 

The  Thebans  had  now  the  opportunity  of  exacting 
their  long-deferred  vengeance.  The  prisoners  were 
arraigned  before  five  Spartan  judges,  who  sat  to  try 
their  cause.  What  followed,  however,  cannot  be  de- 
scribed as  a  trial.  The  prisoners  were  simply  asked— 
such  seems  to  have  been  the  course  arranged  between 
the   Lacedsemonians   and   the  Thebans — 'Have  you 


THE   FATE   OF   PLATiBA.  195 

during  the  present  war  rendered  any  service  to  the 
Lacedaemonians  or  their  allies? "  Such  a  question 
really  prejudged  the  case.  The  only  answer  that 
was  possible  implied  a  condemnation  of  the  accused. 
The  prisoners  begged  that  they  might  be  allowed  to 
plead  their  cause;  and  this  request  was  granted,  in 
spite  of  the  opposition  of  their  implacable  enemies 
from  Thebes.  Two  speakers  were  appointed  on  behalf 
of  the  whole  body,  and  a  speech  which  probably 
represents  the  substance  of  what  they  said  has  been 
preserved  by  Thucydides.  They  began  by  protesting 
against  such  a  mockery  of  a  trial,  and  appealed  to 
the  better  feelings  of  their  Spartan  judges,  as  bound 
to  try  their  cause  on  broader  grounds.  They  told  again 
the  story  of  Theban  oppression,  and  of  their  resort, 
suggested  by  the  Spartans  themselves,  to  the  help 
and  protection  of  Athens,  of  their  patriotic  conduct 
during  the  Persian  War,  so  strongly  contrasting  with 
the  treasonable  compliance  of  Thebes,  and  of  the 
unprovoked  attack  made  on  them  by  their  neigh- 
bours, which  had  been  the  cause  of  all  their  troubles. 
The  speech  made  some  impression,  it  would  appear, 
on  the  judges,  and  the  Thebans  claimed  the  right  to 
reply.  They  dwelt  on  the  fact  that  Plataea  had 
deserted  the  Boeotian  confederacy  to  throw  in  her  lot 
with  a  foreign  city,  defended  their  action  in  the  matter 
of  the  attack,  which  had  been  suggested,  they  said,  by 
some  of  the  most  patriotic  citizens  of  Plataea,  recalled 


196  THE   FATE   OF   PLAT^A. 

the  cruel  breach  of  faith  by  which  their  countrymen 
had  been  put  to  death,  and  finally  reminded  the 
Spartans  that  Thebes  was  an  important  member 
of  the  Peloponnesian  alliance,  and  was  entitled  to 
the  gratitude  of  its  chief. 

The  verdict  was  such  as  was  expected,  we  may  say, 
arranged.  Each  prisoner  was  separately  asked  the 
question  put  to  the  whole  body.  When  he  answered, 
as  he  could  not  but  answer,  in  the  negative,  he  was 
led  off  to  execution.  Two  hundred  Platseans  thus 
perished,  and  twenty-five  Athenians  shared  their  fate. 

The  survivors  were  hospitably  treated  at  Athens 
and  granted  certain  rights  of  citizenship.  About 
seven  years  afterwards  the  town  of  Scione  on  the 
coast  of  Macedonia  was  handed  over  to  them.* 

*  Scione  had  revolted  from  Athens  and  had  been  recaptured 
by  them.  All  the  grown-up  males  were  put  to  death.  At  the 
conclusion  of  the  Peloponnesian  war  the  Plataeans  were  compelled 
to  give  up  the  place,  and  they  again  took  refuge  in  Alliens.  Seven- 
teen years  afterwards  (387  B.C.)  when  by  the  peace  of  Antal- 
cidas  all  the  Greek  cities  were  declared  free  and  independent, 
the  Spartans,  who  were  then  at  enmity  with  their  old  allies 
of  Thebes,  and  desired  above  all  things  to  hunible  them,  rebuilt 
Platsea,  and  invited  its  inhabitants  to  return.  It  was  but  a 
doubtful  benefit,  for  the  Platseans  were  compelled  to  receive  a 
Spartan  garrison  and  governor.  The  city  was,  in  fact,  nothing 
more  than  an  outpost,  intended  to  keep  Thebes  in  check. 
Fifteen  years  afterwards,  during  the  brief  supremacy  of  the 
Boeotian  power,  under  the  able  leadership  of  Kpuminondas,  it 
was  again  surprised  by  the  Thebans  and  destroyed.  Finally  in 
888  came  the  last  change  in  its  chequered  fortunes.  Philip  of 
Macedon  again  rebuilt  the  city,  and  invited  the  descendants  of  the 
old  inhabitants  to  resume  possession  of  their  ancestral  home.  After 
this  its  history  was  uneventful.  We  hear  of  it  in  the  sixth  century 
of  our  era,  when  its  walls  were  restored  by  the  Emperor  Justinian. 


CHAPTER  XVIL 

THE  FATAL  EXPEDITION. 

PARTL 

THE  FIRST   CAMPAIGN. 

r  would  be  for  the  historian,  not  for  a  writer  who 
aims  at  nothing  more  than  to  present  a  few  pic- 
turesque scenes  from  Greek  story,  to  describe  at  length 
the  causes  which  resulted  in  the  disastrous  expedition 
of  the  Athenians  to  Sicily.  Athens  had  recovered 
from  the  disasters  that  had  overtaken  her  in  the 
early  years  of  the  Peloponnesian  War,  and  was,  to 
say  the  least,  as  strong  as  she  had  ever  been.  It 
was  natural  that  she  should  look  about  for  fresh 
fields  for  her  superabundant  activities,  fresh  occasions 
for  aggrandizement.  Ambition  cloaked  itself,  as  usual, 
under  plausible  pretexts.  There  were  kinsmen  of  the 
Ionian  stock,  the  inhabitants  of  Leontini,  whom  it  was 
only   right  to  protect  from  the  oppression  of  their 

IfT 


198  THE   FATAL    FXPEDITION. 

Dorian  neighbours  at  Syracuse.  There  was  the  pos- 
sible danger,  which  it  was  merely  prudence  to  anti- 
cipate, of  a  great  Dorian  League,  in  which  the  wealthy 
and  populous  cities  of  Sicily  would  give  a  preponderating 
power  to  the  enemies  of  Athens.  These  and  other 
similar  arguments  were  urged  by  the  war  party, 
and  by  none  more  emphatically  than  by  Alcibiades. 
Nicias,  the  representative  of  the  propertied  and  con- 
servative classes,  strongly  advocated  abstention  from 
Sicilian  affairs,  and  a  general  avoidance  of  all  entan- 
glements abroad.  Outvoted  in  the  Assembly,  he  con- 
ceived the  idea  of  alarming  the  people  by  the  magnitude 
of  his  demands,  and  estimated  the  necessary  number 
of  ships  and  men  at  a  figure  so  high  as  would,  he 
thought,  terrify  the  supporters  of  the  expedition. 
This  hope  was  disappointed.  His  estimates  were 
received  with  enthusiasm,  and  Nicias  found  himself 
committed  to  a  scheme  which  engaged  the  whole 
available  strength  of  the  city.  He  and  Alcibiades 
were  made  joint  commanders,  a  third  general,  Lamachus, 
who  had  a  high  reputation  for  courage,  being  asso- 
ciated with  them. 

It  was  about  Midsummer  in  the  year  415  B.C. 
when  the  great  armament  set  out.  There  were  on(^ 
hundred  ships  of  war,  sixty  of  them  being  fitted  for 
action,  while  forty  were  to  be  used  as  transports 
for  troops.  The  number  of  citizen  heavy-armed 
soJ'^ers   was  two  thousand  two  hundred,  one  thousand 


THE    FATAL    EXPEDITION.  199 

five  hundred  of  these  being  taken  from  the  select  roll, 
and  representing  the  very  flower  of  Athenian  manhood. 
The  remaining  seven  hundred  were  of  the  poorer 
class,  whose  accoutrement  was  supplied  by  the  State. 
These  served,  for  the  most  part,  as  marines.  The 
number  was  swelled  to  nearly  five  thousand  by  con- 
tingents from  Mantinea  and  Argos,  troops  who  seem 
to  have  been  mercenaries  rather  than  allies. 

This  was  an  imposing  force,  but  the  effect  was 
increased  by  the  splendour  with  which  it  had  been 
equipped.  The  ships  of  war  were  furnished  by 
private  citizens  of  the  wealthier  class,  who  were 
specially  taxed  for  this  purpose.  Commonly  content, 
we  may  suppose,  with  satisfying  legal  requirements, 
they  now  vied  with  each  other  in  the  costliness  of 
their  preparations,  hiring  the  most  efficient  rowers 
at  their  private  expense,  and  covering  the  vessels  them- 
selves with  the  richest  ornaments.  The  sight  at- 
tracte'd,  not  only  the  whole  population  of  the  city,  which 
flocked  to  the  harbour  in  numbers  which  reminded 
aged  spectators  of  the  migration  to  Salamis  sixty-five 
years  before,  but  strangers  from  all  parts  of  Greece. 

The  farewells  ended — and  in  these  there  must  have 
mingled,  with  all  the  pride  and  hope  of  the  day, 
some  whispers  of  misgiving— a  trumpet  was  blown  to 
give  the  signal  for  silence.  A  herald  stood  forth, 
and  uttered  a  prayer  for  success.  In  this  all  the 
crews  and  the  multitude  on  shore  joined  with  one 


200  THE    FATAL    EXPEDITION. 

voice.  Then  all  sang  the  Paean  together,  and  the 
PsBan  ended,  libations  were  poured  out  from  goblets 
of  gold  and  silver.  These  ceremonies  completed,  the 
fleet  started,  the  swift  galleys  racing  as  far  as  ^Egina. 

The  first  point  to  be  reached  was  Corcyra,  where 
the  meeting-place  for  the  contingents  from  allied  and 
subject  states  had  been  fixed.  The  strength  of  the 
armament  was  materially  increased  by  these  addi- 
tions. There  were  now  five  thousand  one  hundred 
heavy-armed,  one  thousand  five  hundred  and  eighty 
light-armed  troops  (one  hundred  and  twenty  of  these 
being  exiles  belonging  to  the  democratic  party  of 
Megara,  and  seven  hundred  slingers  from  Rhodes). 
The  cavalry  could  hardly  have  numbered  more  than 
twenty  or  thirty,  for  a  single  transport  sufficed  for 
them.  The  fleet  was  increased  by  thirty-seven  ships. 
Five  hundred  vessels,  laden  with  stores,  implements 
of  war,  and  artisans  of  various  kinds,  accompanied 
the  expedition  ;  these  vessels  were  hired  by  the  state ; 
a  number,  not  stated,  chartered  by  private  adventurers, 
still  further  increased  the  vast  array. 

From  Corcyra  the  fleet  crossed  to  the  promontory, 
of  lapyx  in  Apulia,  the  most  easterly  point  of  Italy. 
The  Greek  cities  on  the  coast,  even  Thurii,  though 
owing  its  foundation  in  a  great  measure  to  Athens, 
showed  no  friendly  temper.  They  not  only  shut 
their  gates  against  the  new-comers,  but  refused  to 
allow  them  to  purchase  provisions.     At  some  places 


ALCIBIADES. 


From  a  Bust  in  the  Chiaramonti  Museum  in  the 
Vatican. 


THE    FATAL    EXPEDITION.  201 

the  fleet  was  not  allowed  to  water.  Rhegium,  an 
Ionian  colony,  allowed  the  accommodation  of  a  market 
and  a  convenient  place  for  an  encampment,  but  was 
not  hospitable  enough  to  open  its  gates. 

At  Rhegium  the  Atlienians  made  a  stay  of  con- 
siderable length.  They  wanted  to  clean  the  bottoms 
of  their  ships — a  ship  could  not  move  at  full  speed 
unless  this  was  done — and  they  had  also  some  im- 
portant business  to  transact.  Among  the  inducements 
that  had  been  used  to  persuade  the  Assembly  to  vote 
the  expedition  was  a  promise  of  a  large  sum  of 
money  from  the  town  of  Egesta  towards  the  pay  of 
the  fleet.  The  Egestaeans,  who  were  of  an  Italian 
stock,  had  quarrelled  with  their  Greek  neighbours 
of  Selinus,  had  been  worsted  in  the  war  wliich 
followed,  and  hoped  to  repair  their  losses  by  the 
help  of  Athens.  It  was  now  found  that  they  had 
practised  a  gross  deception.  Jars,  that  had  been 
described  as  full  of  coin,  were  found  to  contain  no- 
thing but  base  metal  or  stones  with  a  thin  layer  of 
precious  metals  at  top.  The  rich  gold  and  silver  plate 
with  which  the  Athenian  envoys  had  been  greatly 
impressed — for  envoys  had  actually  been  sent  to 
examine  into  the  resources  of  the  town — had  been 
carried,  it  was  discovered,  from  house  to  house.  In 
fact,    the   thirty  talents  of  silver*  which  the  Eges- 

*  About  £7000. 


202  THE   FATAL    EXPEDITION. 

taean  ambassadors  had  brought  as  an  earnest  of  a 
much  larger  sum  to  follow,  were  found  to  be  all  that 
could  be  expected  from  this  source. 

This  appointment  gave  Nicias  the  opportunity  for 
which  he  had  been  looking.  "Sail  to  Egesta,"  he 
said  to  his  colleagues,  "  demand  their  promised  con- 
tribution; when  they  fail,  as  fail  they  must,  to  pro- 
duce it,  make  as  good  terms  as  possible  for  them 
with  Selinus,  and  then  return  home  without  running 
any  more  risk,  or  spending  any  more  money." 

Alcibiades  was  opposed  to  this  timorous  policy,  as 
he  called  it.  His  advice  was  to  make  alliance  with 
the  other  Greek  cities  in  Sicily— all  of  them  jealous 
of  Syracuse — and  with  the  native  inhabitants  of  the 
interior.  Having  secured  all  available  help,  they 
should  then,  he  thought,  proceed  to  attack  Syracuse 
and  Selinus. 

Lamachus  advocated  a  bolder  course — to  attack 
Syracuse  at  once,  before  their  preparations  for  defence 
were  complete.  If  his  advice  had  been  taken,  the  ex- 
pedition might,  it  is  quite  possible,  have  had  a  dif- 
ferent result.  He  was  overruled,  and  finding  that 
he  could  not  have  his  own  way,  gave  in  his  adhesion 
to  the  plan  of  Alcibiades. 

The  latter  at  once  set  about  carrying  his  scheme 
into  execution.  He  presented  himself  at  Messana  in 
the  hope  of  bringing  the  city  over.  He  was  ad- 
mitted   within  the  walls  and  allowed  to  address  the 


THE    FATAL    EXPEDITION.  203 

assembly,  but  could  not  persuade  the  people  to  follow 
his  advice.  From  Messana  he  went  to  Naxos,  escorted 
by  an  imposing  fleet.  Naxos  gave  in  its  adhesion. 
At  Catana,  the  next  place  visited,  he  was  refused 
admittance.  The  next  thing  was  to  make  a  formal 
demand  on  Syracuse  to  restore  their  town  to  the 
people  of  Leoiithii.  This  was  done  by  a  herald  from 
the  deck  of  a  ship,  one  of  a  squadron  of  ten  which 
entered  the  Great  Harbour  of  Syracuse  for  the  pur- 
pose, and  at  the  same  time  to  make  observations  on 
the  sea-defences  of  the  city. 

From  Syracuse  the  generals  returned  to  Catana. 
Here  a  lucky  accident  gave  them  what  had  been 
before  refused.  While  Alcibiades  was  addressing  the 
assembly,  some  Athenian  soldiers  broke  open  a  gate 
which  happened  to  be  insufficiently  guarded,  and 
made  their  way  into  the  market-place.  Their  pres- 
ence was  a  practical  argument  to  which  no  answer 
was  possible.  The  Opposition  were  quite  satisfied 
with  making  their  escape  from  the  town,  and  Catana 
became  an  ally  of  Athens. 

A  few  days  after,  a  fatal  blow — for  such  it  proved 
to  be— was  dealt  to  the  undertaking.  For  causes 
which  must  be  sought  by  the  reader  elsewere,  Al- 
cibiades was  recalled.  Afraid  to  return  to  Athens, 
he  fled  to  Sparta,  and  did  his  utmost  to  harm  his 
country.  It  is  possible,  even  probable,  that  he  made 
a  great  mistake  when  he  opposed  the  bold  policy  of 


204  THE    FATAL    EXPEDITION. 

Lamachus;  but  he  made  no  mistakes  when  he  ranged 
himself  among  the  enemies  of  his  country.  His  policy 
was  supremely  .able  and  supremely  mischievous. 

Soon  after  his  departure  a  small  success  was 
achieved  in  the  capture  of  the  little  town  of  Hikkara, 
inhabited  by  one  of  the  native  tribes.  The  prisoners 
were  sold  or  ransomed  for  one  hundred  and  twenty 
talents.  The  money  doubtless  was  useful,  but  it  may 
have  cost  the  captors  dearly  if  this  act  alienated  the 
native  tribes. 

Three  months  had  now  passed  since  the  arrival  of 
the  armament  in  Sicily,  and  next  to  nothing  had 
been  done.  The  soldiers  were  growing  weary  and 
dispirited ;  the  Syracusans,  on  the  other  hand,  who 
had  at  first  been  terrified  by  the  magnitude  of  the 
invading  force,  were  daily  gaining  confidence,  and 
were  even  beginning  to  despise  the  enemy.  "  Are 
you  going  to  stay  here  as  peaceful  settlers  ? "  their 
troopers  would  ask,  as  they  rode  up  to  the  Athenian 
lines,  "or  are  you  going  to  restore  the  Leontines?" 
Nicias,  compelled  to  take  some  action  by  the  dissa- 
tisfaction of  his  own  men,  conceived  an  ingenious  plan,  by 
which  he  could  turn  the  careless  temper  of  the 
Syracusans  to  his  own  advantage,  and  was  lucky 
enough  to  find  a  man  who  was  admirably  qualified 
to  help  in  carrying  it  out.  This  was  a  native  of 
Catana,  really  an  Athenian  partisan,  but  one  who 
concealed  his   views  so  carefully  that  he  was  liked 


THE   FATAL   EXPEDITION.  205 

and  trusted  by  the  other  side.  This  man  made  his 
way  into  Syracuse,  and  gave  to  the  authorities  some 
information  which  seemed  to  make  a  successful  coup 
of  easy  accomplishment.  (It  is  curious  to  see  how 
the  grossest  treachery  is  accepted  as  a  matter  of 
course  in  a  political  partisan.  An  aristocrat  was 
always  supposed  to  be  ready  to  betray  his  country 
if  he  could  damage  the  Athenians  thereby,  a  democrat 
to  do  the  same,  if  he  could  serve  them.)  The  man 
declared  that  many  of  the  Athenian  soldiers  were 
in  the  habit  of  passing  the  night  within  the  walls 
of  Catana.  It  would  be  easy  therefore  to  take  them 
at  a  disadvantage  by  delivering  a  vigorous  attack  at 
day-break.  The  Syracusan  party  in  Catana  would 
assist  by  closing  the  gates,  attacking  the  Athenians, 
and  setting  fire  to  the  ships.  The  Syracusan  generals 
eagerly  caught  at  the  chance,  and  making  a  levy 
en  masse,  marched  to  a  spot  about  eight  miles  from 
Catana.  *  Nicias  put  his  whole  available  force  on 
shipboard  the  very  same  day,  and  reaching  the  Great 
Harbour,  which,  it  should  be  explained,  lay  to  the 
south  of  Syracuse,  at  daybreak,  landed  his  force 
without  opposition.  The  spot  chosen  was  the  southern 
bank  of  the  river  Anapus.  His  left  wing  was 
protected  by  a  steep  hill  crowned  by  a  temple  of 
Olympian  Zeus  and  named  the  Olympieion,  his  right 

*  Catana  was  about  35  Miles  N.  of  Syracuse. 


206  THE   FATAL   EXPEDITION. 

by  the  sea,  his  rear  by  the  houses,  walls,  etc.,  of  a 
little  hamlet  and  by  a  fence  which  he  hastily 
constructed;  a  bridge,  which  crossed  the  Anapus  at 
a  little  distance  from  the  sea,  was  broken  down. 
His  ships  were  guarded  by  a  palisade.  The  Syra- 
cusans,  discovering  that  they  had  been  deceived, 
hurried  back  with  all  speed,  and,  wearied  though  they 
were  by  their  long  march,  offered  battle.  This,  Nicias 
declined  for  the  time.  The  next  morning,  however, 
he  left  his  camp  and  moved  to  meet  the  Syracusan 
army,  which  was  now,  it  seems,  on  the  south  side 
of  the  Anapus.  He  disposed  his  troops  in  two  lines, 
each  eight  deep,  the  second  being  held  in  reserve. 
The  right  wing  was  occupied  by  the  mercenaries 
from  Argos  and  Mantinea ;  the  Athenians  were  in  the 
centre ;  the  other  allies  on  the  right.  The  Syracusan 
army  was  probably  far  more  numerous,  for  it  con- 
tained the  whole  of  the  able-bodied  population,  and 
had  been  reinforced  by  allies  from  Selinus,  Gela,  and 
Camarina.  It  was  especially  strong  in  its  cavalry, 
which  numbered  twelve  hundred.  But  it  was  ill- 
disciplined  and  unaccustomed  to  concerted  movements. 
On  this  occasion  the  troops  were  fatigued,  and  many, 
availing  themselves  of  the  license  taken  by  citizen 
soldiers,  had  gone  to  their  own  houses  for  rest  and 
refreshment. 

Nicias  led  on  his  troops  to  the  attack  at  a  brisk 
pace,  a  movement  which  had  decided  the  issue  of  the 


THE   FATAL    EXPEDITION.  207 

day  at  Marathon,  and  was  again  to  prove  successful. 
The  Syracusans  though  taken  by  surprise  and  un- 
prepared— so  vigorous  an  initiative  on  the  part 
of  the  Athenians  was  wholly  unexpected— made  a 
stout  resistance.  It  was  not  till  a  sudden  storm  of 
ram,  accompanied  by  thunder  and  lightning,  discour- 
aged them— the  unpractised  Syracusans  regarded  it 
as  an  unfavourable  portent,  the  veteran  Athenians 
as  a  common  incident  of  the  season — that  they 
began  tc  give  way.  The  Argives  and  Mantineans 
were  the  first  to  drive  back  the  troops  opposed  to 
them,  and  the  Athenians  soon  followed  their  example. 
The  whole  line  now  broke  into  a  retreat.  But  the 
Athenians  did  not  venture  on  a  pursuit,  which,  indeed, 
was  impossible  in  the  face  of  the  powerful  cavalry 
force  of  the  Syracusans.  They  contented  themselves 
with  encamping  on  the  field  of  battle.  The  Syracus- 
ans were  so  little  discomfited  by  their  defeat  that 
they  posted  a  strong  guard  in  the  Olympieion,  where 
there  was*  a  very  rich  treasury.  Nicias,  whether  from 
caution  or  from  a  religious  scruple — and  he  was 
scrupulous  to  a  degree — did  not  attempt  to  plunder 
the  shrine.  The  next  day  he  gave  back  to  the  enemy 
their  dead  (numbering  two  hundred  and  fifty)  and  paid 
the  last  honours  to  his  own,  of  whom  there  were  fifty. 
No  further  operations  were  attempted.  The  same 
day  the  Athenians  returned  to  Catana.  Afterwards 
they  went  to  Naxos,  where  they  had  determined  to 


208  THE  FATAL   EXPEDITION. 

spend  the  winter.  A  Sicilian  winter  would  not,  indeed, 
seem  a  bad  season  for  campaigning  to  a  soldier  of 
the  present  day,  very  likely  he  would  prefer  it  to  the 
sultry  summer.  But  the  practice  of  suspending  active 
operations  during  the  cold  season  was  too  firmly 
established  to  be  disturbed.  And  it  must  be  remem- 
bered that  a  Greek  army  was  so  ill  provided  with  many 
necessaries  of  life  that  continuous  campaigning  was 
scarcely  possible.  Nicias  utilized  the  time  by  sending 
home  for  a  force  of  cavalry — without  which  it  would 
be  impossible,  he  said,  to  prosecute  hostilities — and 
for  a  further  supply  of  money.  The  Syracusans,  on 
the  other  hand,  built  a  new  wall,  which  would 
materially  increase  the  difficulties  of  the  invading 
force  when  it  should  attempt  to  invest  the  city. 
Beginning  at  the  Great  Harbour  on  the  south,  it 
reached  northward  to  the  sea  north  of  the  town. 
Their  including  the  whole  of  the  city,  made  it  neces- 
sary for  a  besieger  to  make  his  circumvallating  wall 
of  much  larger  dimensions.  The  deserted  town  of 
Megara  to  the  north  of  the  city  was  also  fortified, 
as  was  the  Olympieion,  already  mentioned,  on  the 
south.  All  spots  in  the  Great  Harbour  and  elsewhere 
where  landing  was  easy  were  protected  by  stakes. 
It  is  clear  that  on  the  whole  the  position  of  affairs, 
nine  months  after  the  opening  of  the  campaign,  had 
become  less  favourable  to  the  invading  force. 
But  the  most  powerful  factor  in  the  situation  has 


THB   FATAL   EXPEDITIOK.  209 

yet  to  be  mentioned.  Neither  the  inaction  of  the 
Athenian  generals,  nor  the  energy  of  the  Syracusans, 
contributed  so  much  to  bring  about  the  final  result 
as  did  the  influence  of  Alcibiades.  He  had  taken 
refuge  in  Sparta,  and  he  was  now  doing  his  utmost 
to  counteract  the  efforts  of  his  country.  He  was  in 
the  secret  of  her  plans ;  he  was  aware  of  her  weak- 
nesses; he  had  the  means  of  detecting  the  intrigues 
which  her  partisans  in  various  cities,  Sicilian  and 
others,  were  contriving.  All  this  knowledge  he  used 
with  the  utmost  cleverness,  and  without  a  vestige  of 
scruple. 

PART  n. 

THB  SECOND    CAMPAIGN   (414). 

Very  early  in  the  spring  the  Athenian  forces  were 
in  motion.  Their  operations  were  of  little  importance, 
but  they  kept  the  troops  in  activity  and  so  far  were 
useful.  In  March  two  hundred  and  fifty  cavalry 
arrived  from  Athens — they  were  to  be  horsed  in 
Sicily— and  thirty  mounted  archers.  Three  hundred 
and  more  troops  of  the  same  arm  were  raised  among  the 
Sicilian  allies.  Nicias  consequently  could  now  muster 
more  than  six  hundred  cavalry,  and  he  lost  no  more 
time  in  setting  seriously  about  the  work  of  investing 
Syracuse. 

The  Syracusans  had  done  something  during  the  winter 

14 


210  THE    FATAL    EXPEDITION. 

to  increase  the  difficulty  of  his  work;  they  now  took 
another  step  in  the  same  direction.  North-west  of 
the  city  was  a  tract  of  high  ground,  called  EpipolsB 
(the  word  may  be  translated  by  the  English  "  Overton "). 
This  they  attempted  to  occupy.  But  it  was  too 
late.  The  Athenians  had  cast  their  eyes  on  the  spot, 
and  they  were  beforehand  with  their  antagonists. 
They  had  actually  reached  the  coveted  ground, 
approaching  it  from  the  north,  when  a  chosen  force 
of  six  hundred  Syracusans  came  hurrying  up  from 
the  meadows  of  the  Anapus,  where  the  city  forces 
were  being  reviewed.  The  new-comers  were  in 
disorder  and  out  of  breath — they  had  just  accom- 
plished a  march  of  three  miles  at  the  double— and 
were  easily  routed  with  the  loss  of  their  leader  and 
half  their  number.  The  Athenians  built  a  fort  at 
Labdalon,  the  highest  point  of  the  cliffs  of  Epipolae 
on  the  north.  This  they  followed  up  by  building 
another  redoubt,  at  the  top  of  the  slope  which  descended 
towards  the  city.  This  was  to  serve  as  a  store  for 
munitions  of  war  and  for  a  meeting  point  for  the 
two  lines  of  circumvallation,  one  of  which  was  to 
touch  the  Great  Harbour,  the  other  the  Outer  Sea, 
This  done  they  set  about  building  the  walls  them- 
selves, and  carried  on  this  work  with  a  speed  which 
struck  terror  into  the  Syracusans.  An  attempt  of 
the  latter  to  check  the  work  by  a  general  attack 
had    to    be    abandoned.     The    infantry    refused    to 


THE    FATAL    EXPEDITION.  211 

meet  the  Athenians  heavy-armed,  and  had  to  he  led 
back  into  the  city.  The  cavalry  was,  for  a  time, 
more  successful,  and  interfered  seriously  with  the 
work.  But  they,  too,  were  worsted  in  an  encounter 
with  a  detachment  of  Athenian  infantry,  supported 
by  the  whole  of  the  mounted  force. 

The  next  effort  of  the  besieged  was  to  build  a 
counter-wall,  which  would  cut  off  the  Athenian  line 
at  a  point  between  the  second  redoubt  and  the  Great 
Harbour.  This  also  failed.  The  Athenians  took  the 
opportunity  of  a  time — the  hour  of  the  mid-day 
meal — when  the  new  erection  was  indifferently  guarded. 
(The  citizen  soldiers,  it  will  be  observed,  were  again 
found  wanting  in  vigilance  and  energy.)  A  detach- 
ment was  told  off  to  attack  it,  while  the  main  body 
of  the  army  supported  the  movement  by  threatening 
the  city.  The  manoeuvre  was  completely  successful. 
The  assailants  got  possession  of  the  work  and 
entirely  destroyed  it,  carrying  off  the  materials  for 
their  own  lines. 

The  same  attempt  wa?  repeated  still  further 
south,  in  the  low  ground  that  bordered  the  Great 
Harbour.  But  an  accident  turned  what  was  in  other 
respects  a  considerable  victory,  into  a  deplorable 
disaster.  The  battle  had  been  won,  but  in  the  ardour 
of  pursuit  some  Athenian  troops  got  into  trouble. 
Lamachus  came  to  their  assistance,  at  the  head  of  a 
body   of  archers  and  of  the  Argive  infantry.     With 


212  THE   FATAL   EXPEDITION. 

characteristic  courage  he  pressed  on  in  advance  ol 
his  men,  was  cut  off  from  the  main  body  and  slain. 
His  death  left  Nicias  in  sole  command. 

While  this  was  going  on,  some  of  the  Syracusan 
fugitives  had  rallied  and  made  an  attack  on  the 
Athenian  lines,  near  the  second  redoubt.  By  a  happy 
chance  Nicias,  who  was  suffering  from  illness,  was 
there  in  person.  Some  mischief  was  done;  but  the 
assault  was  checked  by  the  general's  presence  of 
mind.  He  ordered  a  huge  quantity  of  timber,  which 
had  been  collected  on  the  spot,  to  be  fired.  The 
enemy  could  not  approach  for  a  time,  and  before 
another  attack  could  be  delivered,  strong  reinforce- 
ments came  up.  The  same  day  the  Athenian  fleet 
entered  the  Great  Harbour,  and  the  Syracusans 
retired  within  their  city  walls.  They  made  no  more 
attempts  to  interfere  with  the  circumvallation;  their 
utmost  hope  was  to  hold  out  in  the  City. 

The  prospects  of  the  Athenians,  on  the  other  hand, 
were  bright  in  the  extreme.  They  had  shown  again 
and  again  a  decisive  superiority  in  the  field.  On  the 
sea  there  had  not  been  even  an  attempt  at  resistance. 
Their  lines  were  within  a  measurable  distance  of 
completion.  That  done,  the  capture  of  Syracuse  was 
only  a  matter  of  time.  These  prospects  of  success 
brought  them  new  friends  and  allies.  The  native 
tribes  were  now  almost  united  in  their  support  of 
him.     The   Greek  cities  of  Italy,   with   one  or  two 


THE   FATAL   EXPEDITION.  218 

exceptions,  among  which  Tarentum,  a  Spartan  colony, 
was  conspicuous,  furnished  his  army  with  an  abun- 
dance of  supplies.  Three  vessels  of  war  from  some 
town  on  the  coast  of  Etruria,  offered  their  services. 
This  time,  which  may  be  fixed  as  June,  414,  was 
the  culminating  point  of  the  Athenian  fortunes.  After 
this  everything  began  to  changes  for  the  worse. 

Alcibiades  had  urged  at  Sparta  the  necessity  of 
appointing  a  Spartan  officer  to  command  the  Syra- 
cusan  forces,  and  Gylippus  had  been  named  to  the 
post.  This  officer  had  been  busy  since  the  winter, 
in  getting  together  a  force  for  the  relief  of  Syracuse, 
but  had  met  with  but  little  success.  Corinth,  the 
enemy  of  Athens  in  politics  and  her  rival  in  trade, 
was  most  energetic  in  supporting  him,  and  even 
Corinth  did  very  little.  He  was  still  waiting  when 
news  of  the  Athenian  victory,  in  which  Lamachus 
had  fallen,  reached  Mainland  Greece.  The  news  was 
exaggerated.  Syracuse,  so  the  report  ran,  was  now 
completely  invested,  and  could  not  be  saved.  Gy- 
lippus, however,  resolved  to  start.  Though  Syracuse 
might  be  lost,  it  was  still  possible  to  save  the 
Dorian  Greeks  of  Italy,  who  would  be  the  next  object 
of  Athenian  ambition.  He  set  sail  with  four  ships, 
two  furnished  by  Sparta,  two  from  Corinth.  A 
squadron  of  fifteen  more  was  to  follow  as  speedily 
as  possible  He  reached  Tarentum  in  safety,  attempted 
in  vain  to  bring  over  Thurii  to  his  cause,  and  after 


214  THE    FATAL    EXPEDITION. 

visiting   some   other   Greek  cities  on  the  coast,  was 
driven  back  to  Tarentum  by  bad  weather. 

Nicias  had,  of  course,  been  informed  by  Athenian 
partisans  in  Thurii  of  the  arrival  of  Gylippus,  but 
took  no  steps  in  consequence,  looking  upon  him  as 
an  insignificant  adventurer.  But  when  he  heard  of 
the  Spartan's  presence  at  Locri,  a  town  much  nearer 
to  Sicily,  he  thought  it  time  to  act,  and  sent  out  a 
squadron  of  four  ships  to  intercept  the  new-comer. 
It  was  too  late.  Gylippus  had  already  landed  in  the 
island.  In  a  few  days  he  was  at  the  head  of  a 
considerable  force.  He  took  seven  hundred  men  from 
his  ships.  Himera,  the  town  where  he  landed,  furni- 
shed him  with  some  troops.  Other  Sicilians,  attracted 
by  his  reputation  as  a  Spartan  and  by  his  character 
as  an  adventurous  leader,  joined  his  standard.  He 
had  altogether  about  three  thousand  men.  The  invest- 
ing lines  had  not  yet  reached  completion,  though  they 
were  within  a  short  distance  of  it.  But  even  without 
them  Gylippus  might  have  been  easily  prevented  from 
making  his  way  into  the  city.  He  had  to  cross 
Epipolae,  and  the  approach  to  this  high  ground  could 
be  conveniently  made  by  one  road  only,  which  the 
besiegers  could  easily  have  secured.  With  incredible 
supineness,  Nicias  allowed  this  formidable  adversary 
to  collect  his  army,  to  march  nearly  across  the  island,* 

*  Himera    (now    the    modern    Termini)    where    Gylippus  had 
marshalled  his  force,  was  more  than  a  hundred  miles  from  Syracuse. 


THE    FATAL    EXPEDITION.  215 

and  to  make  his  way  into  the  city  without  any  attempt 
to  hinder  him.  The  blockading  ships  were  equally 
remiss.  They  failed  to  intercept  either  the  single  ship 
which  brought  the  Corinthian  admiral  Gongylus,  or  the 
squadron  of  twelve  ships  which  soon  afterwards  followed. 

Gylippus  was  met  by  a  Syracusan  force  as  he 
approached  the  city  over  Epipolae.  Without  entering 
the  city,  he  turned  and  offered  battle  to  Nicias.  It 
is  true  that  with  a  soldier's  eye  he  noted  the  irregu- 
larity of  the  citizen  soldiers,  and  retired  to  a 
more  protected  situation,  but  Nicias  did  not  venture 
to  follow  him,  and  the  result  of  the  day  was  to 
make  a  most  important  change  in  the  situation  of 
the  combatants.  The  Spartan  general  had  expressed 
this  fact  with  emphasis  on  the  day  when,  immediately 
on  his  arrival,  he  had  sent  a  herald  to  Nicias  with 
the  offer  of  a  five  days'  truce,  if  he  would  evacuate 
the  island  within  that  time. 

Another  effort,  successful  this  time,  was  made  to 
build  a  cross  wall,  cutting  off  the  lines  of  investment. 
At  first,  indeed,  Gylippus,  who  had  chosen  his  ground 
badly,  where  he  could  not  use  either  cavalry  or  his 
light  troops,  was  defeated.  In  a  second  encounter  he 
gained  a  decided  victory.  The  Athenians  were  driven 
within  their  lines;  the  cross  wall  was  completed. 
From  that  moment  the  capture  of  Syracuse  by  land 
was  impossible. 

With  this  the  operations  of  the  second  campaign 


216  THB  FATAL   EXPEDITIOir. 

were  practically  concluded.  The  Athenian  army  held 
its  ground  without  difficulty;  for  it  was  still  strong, 
and  it  was  well  posted,  but  it  could  not  assume  the 
offensive.  The  fleet  was  sadly  depreciated  in  quality 
Many  of  the  rowers,  most  of  whom  were  slaves,  had 
deserted;  the  crews  generally  were  weakened  by 
desertion.  And  there  had  been,  of  course,  the  wear 
and  tear  of  a  year  and  a  half's  campaigning.  Nicias 
told  the  truth  to  his  countrymen  in  a  letter  of  which 
Thucydides  has  preserved  what  is  probably  a  verbatim 
copy.     I  shall  now  give  a  summary  of  it. 

■  What  has  happened  in  the  past,  men  of  Athens, 
I  have  described  in  many  letters ;  but  now  I  would 
have  you  know  how  things  stand  with  us.  After  we 
had  defeated  the  Syracusans  in  many  battles,  and 
had  built  the  walls  within  which  we  now  lie,  Gylippus 
the  Spartan  came  against  us,  bringing  an  army  which 
he  had  gathered  in  the  Peloponnesus  and  in  certain 
cities  of  Sicily.  In  the  first  battle  he  was  beaten 
by  ns,  in  the  second  we  were  driven  from  the  field 
by  help  of  his  cavaliy  and  dart-ihrowers.  And  now 
we  have  ceased  to  work  at  our  lines  of  investment, 
for  the  enemy  are  superior  in  numbers ;  many  also 
of  our  men  are  taken  up  in  guarding  our  walls; 
also  the  enemy  have  carried  a  wall  past  us,  and 
unless  we  can  take  this  by  a  superior  force,  we  shall 
not  be  able  to  invest  the  city.  Rather,  we  who  thought 
to  besiege  are  ourselves  besieged. 


THE   FATAL   EXPEDITION.  217 

"Even  now  they  are  gathering  together  a  yet 
larger  army,  wherewith  to  storm  our  walls,  while 
they  also  attack  us  by  sea.  Let  no  one  think  it 
strange  that  I  say  *by  sea.'  At  first,  indeed,  our 
fleet  was  in  excellent  condition ;  the  ships  were  sound, 
and  the  crews  complete ;  now,  because  they  have 
been  long  at  sea,  the  ships  are  leaky  and  the  crews 
are  decayed.  The  ships  we  have  not  been  able  to 
draw  up  on  the  shore  and  careen,  for  the  fleet  of 
the  enemy  practises  daily  in  our  sight  and  can  attack 
us  at  their  pleasure.  As  for  our  crews,  many  of  the 
seamen,  while  fetching  wood,  or  foraging,  or  watering 
at  a  distance,  have  been  cut  off  by  the  horsemen; 
our  slaves  have  deserted,  our  enemies  being  as  well 
off  as  ourselves ;  the  foreigners  whom  we  have  pressed 
into  our  service  have  gone  back  to  their  cities,  while 
they  who  joined  us,  persuaded  by  the  high  pay  and 
thinking  that  they  should  grow  rich  rather  than  fight, 
now  that  they  see  our  adversaries  to  be  as  strong 
as  ourselves,  either  go  over  to  the  enemy,  or  leave 
us  in  some  other  way.  Some  have  bribed  the  cap- 
tains to  take  slaves  from  Hykkara  in  their  places. 
You  know  that  a  crew  is  at  its  best  but  for  a 
short  time,  and  that  there  are  but  few  who  will  get 
a  ship  under  weigh,  or  row  in  time.  I  cannot  stop 
these  misdoings,  nor  can  I  find  recruits.  Our  allies 
are  of  no  avail.  And  if  the  Syracusans  gain  one 
thing  more,  and  prevail  upon  the  Italus  cities,  which 


218  THE    FATAL    EXPEDITION. 

have  provisioned  us,  to  send  us  food  no  longer,  verily 
they  will  conquer  us  without  so  much  as  fighting, 
for  we  shall  be  starved  out. 

•  I  might  have  written  to  you  more  agreeable  things, 
but  not  more  useful,  as  you  ought  to  know  the  true 
state  of  affairs  before  you  deliberate  upon  them. 
Your  temper  is  always  to  demand  statements  that 
please  at  the  time,  and  afterwards  to  be  angry  if  the 
result  is  other  than  what  you  wish.  Therefore  I 
have  judged  it  best  to  tell  the  truth. 

*  For  the  purpose  for  which  you  sent  us  hither 
neither  the  army  nor  the  generals  were  inadequate. 
But  the  circumstances  are  changed.  All  Sicily  is 
banded  against  us,  and  an  army  is  coming  from  the 
Peloponnesus.  You  must  either  recall  your  troops, 
or  send  another  armament  as  large  to  reinforce 
them,  both  men  and  ships.  And  send  someone  to 
be  general  in  my  place,  for  I  am  suffering  from  a 
grievous  disease,  which  forbids  my  remaining  at  my 
post.  This  consideration  I  may  claim  at  your  hands, 
for  while  I  had  health  and  strength  I  expended 
them  in  your  service.  And  whatever  you  do,  do  it 
without  delay  in  the  very  beginning  of  spring." 

Thucydides  does  not  tell  of  the  temper  with 
which  this  letter  was  received  at  Athens.  That  it 
caused  a  bitter  disappointment  we  cannot  doubt; 
but  the  people  did  not  go  back  from  their  resolution. 
When  they  had  staked   so   much  they  would  stake 


THE   FATAL    EXPEDITION.  219 

still  more.  The  request  of  Nicias,  that  he  should  be 
relieved  of  his  command,  was  refused,  but  colleagues 
were  appointed  to  share  this  responsibility.  Two  of 
these  were  officers  on  the  spot,  two  were  at  Athens. 
One  of  the  latter  sailed  at  mid-winter,  with  ten 
ships  and  a  considerable  sum  of  money.  He  was 
to  reassure  his  countrymen  with  the  promise  that 
liberal  help  would  be  sent. 

PARTm. 

THE   THIRD   CAMPAIGN. 

Both  Sides  were  busy  during  the  winter,  preparing 
for  the  final  struggle.  Early  in  the  spring  operations 
were  commenced  by  the  Syracusans,  who  were  now 
confident  enough  to  assume  the  offensive.  At  the 
suggestion  of  Gylippus,  who  was  strongly  backed  by 
some  influential  Syracusans,  an  attack  by  sea  was 
resolved  upon.  The  Athenians,  it  was  thought,  would 
be  dismayed  by  being  thus  challenged  on  what  they 
considered  to  be  their  own  element.  Eighty  ships, 
accordingly,  were  manned,  thirty-five  of  them  sailing 
from  the  Great  Harbour,  and  forty-five  from  the  other. 
The  Athenians  hastily  manned  sixty  to  meet  them, 
dividing  them  in  similar  proportions.  The  hostile 
fleet  met  at  the  mouth  of  the  Great  Harbour.  At 
first   the   Syracusans   more   than   held   their   own  in 


220  THE    FATAL   EXPEDITIOX. 

the  fierce  struggle  that  ensued,  actually  forcing  their 
way  through  the  Athenian  line.  After  this  their 
want  of  practice  in  naval  tactics  told  fatally  against 
them.  They  lost  all  order,  and  even  got  entangled 
with  each  other. 

In  the  end  the  Athenians  sank  eleven  ships,  captur- 
ing the  crews  of  three  and  killing  most  of  the  others. 
Three  of  their  own  ships  were  sunk. 

But  this  success  was  more  than  counterbalanced 
by  a  disaster  on  land.  Nicias  had  erected  three  forts 
on  Plemmyrium,  the  southern  headland  of  the  Great 
Harbour.  It  was  against  these,  more  than  against 
the  fleet,  that  Gylippus  directed  the  blow  that  he 
meant  to  strike  that  day.  He  had  marched  out  with 
the  whole  available  force  of  the  city  the  night  before, 
taking  the  route  over  Epipolse  and  making  a  wide  com- 
pass which  brought  him  out  in  the  rear  of  the  Plem- 
myrium forts.  The  Athenian  generals,  who  must  have 
been  very  badly  served  by  their  intelligence  depart- 
ment, had  no  notion  of  what  was  going  on.  The 
garrison  of  the  forts  were  equally  off  their  guard. 
Many  of  them  actually  left  their  posts  to  watch  the 
fight  that  was  going  in  the  Great  Harbour.  The 
largest  fort  was  carried  after  a  short  struggle,  the 
other  two  were  evacuated  by  their  garrisons  when 
th(5  first  fell.  Nothing  contributed  more,  says  Thucy- 
dides,  to  the  disastrous  end  of  the  Sicilian  expedition 
than    the   capture    of  these    forts.     Apart  from  the 


THE   FATAL   EXPEDITION.  221 

number  of  the  killed  and  prisoners,  and  this  was 
considerable,  there  was  the  loss  of  a  large  quantity 
of  stores,  among  them  the  masts  and  other  equipments 
of  forty  ships  of  war.  Thenceforward,  also,  the 
provisioning  of  the  army  became  more  and  more 
difficult.  The  Syracusans  did  not,  indeed,  hold  the 
command  of 'the  sea,  but  they  disputed  it.  Nothing 
could  be  brought  into  the  Great  Harbour — and  it 
was  by  this  way  that  all  the  provisions  came — with- 
out a  battle,  and  a  battle  now  was  far  less  likely  to 
end  in  an  Athenian  victory  than  it  had  been  in  the 
first  or  even  the  second  campaign. 

This  fact  was,  we  may  be  sure,  not  unobserved 
by  the  Sicilian  cities,  and  it  decided  the  action  of 
some  that  had  hitherto  stood  aloof  from  the  contest. 
A  force  of  between  two  and  three  thousand  men  was 
raised,  and  set  out  for  Syracuse.  Nicias,  however, 
was  less  sanguine  than  he  had  been  when  Gylippus 
was  doing  the  same  thing  in  the  previous  campaign. 
He  induced  his  native  allies  to  lay  an  ambuscade. 
The  allied  troops  fell  into  it  and  suffered  the  loss 
of  about  two  fifths  of  their  number. 

This  was  a  gleam  of  light  in  the  Athenian  pros- 
pects. Another,  was  the  approach  of  Demosthenes 
with  his  reinforcements.  Gylippus  determined  to 
strike  a  blow  before  the  new  forces  arrived.  An 
experienced  Corinthian  seaman  had  suggested  an 
alteration  in  the  structure  of  the  ships  of  war,  which 


222  THE    FATAL    EXPEDITION. 

would  give  them  a  greater  ramming  power.  The 
beak  was  to  be  made  shorter  and  stronger  and  to 
be  put  lower  in  the  water.  This  alteration  would 
not  have  served  any  useful  purpose  but  for  the  circum- 
stances under  which  the  fighting  would  be  carried  on. 
The  Athenian  captain  relied  on  the  skill  with  which 
they  manoeuvred  their  ships.  They  never  met  an 
antagonist  beak  to  beak,  but  rammed  it  somewhere 
on  the  side.  This,  however,  could  not  be  done  except 
where  there  was  room  to  move  freely,  and  such  room 
the  Athenians  could  not  command.  They  were  re- 
duced, in  short,  to  a  trial  of  sheer  strength,  and  in 
strength  this  change  of  structure  put  them  at  a 
disadvantage.  Now  were  they  able  to  meet  the  danger 
by  a  corresponding  change  in  their  own  ships.  They 
had  neither  sufficient  materials  nor  the  opportunity 
of  making  use  of  what  they  had. 

Thus  prepared,  the  fleet  sailed  out  of  the  docks,  while 
at  the  same  time  the  land  forces  threatened  the  Athenian 
lines.  On  the  first  day  little  was  done,  though 
whatever  advantage  there  was  rested  with  the  Syra- 
cusans.  It  would  have  been  prudent  if  the  Athenians 
had  declined  any  further  engagement,  at  least  till 
the  expected  reinforcements  had  arrived,  and  this, 
indeed,  was  the  counsel  of  Nicias.  He  was  overruled 
by  his  colleagues,  and  when,  after  an  interval  of  a 
day,  the  Syracusan  fleet  reappeared,  the  Athenian 
fleet  moved  out  to  meet  them.     During  the  morning 


THE    FATAL   EXPEDITION.  223 

little  was  done,  and  as  the  enemy  withdrew  at  noon, 
the  Athenians  supposed  that  the  fighting  for  the  day 
was  over,  and  separated  to  take  their  meal  as  usual, 
on  shore.  While  they  were  so  engaged,  the  enemy's 
fleet  reappeared,  and  they  hastily  manned  their  own 
ships.  More  indecisive  skirmishing  followed,  till  the 
Athenian  captains  were  provoked  into  assuming  the 
offensive.  This  was  what  their  antagonists  had  been 
expecting.  The  heavier  metal  and  superior  ramming 
powers  of  the  Syracusan  ships  were  brought  into 
play,  and  the  Athenian  fleet  suffered  severely.  Nicias, 
who,  supine  as  he  certainly  was,  was  nevertheless 
a  man  of  resources,  had  anchored  a  number  of  merchant- 
men in  front  of  the  station  of  his  ships  of  war,  and 
had  furnished  them  with  an  apparatus,  for  letting  down 
a  heavy  weight  on  any  enemy  that  might  attempt  to 
pass  between  them.  The  Athenian  ships  were  thus 
protected  in  their  retreat.  Two  of  the  victorious  fleet 
that  attempted  to  follow  them  were  sunk.  Seven 
ships,  however,  were  sunk  and  many  more  disabled. 
The  besieged  were  now  preparing  for  a  general 
attack,  which  would  complete,  it  was  hoped,  the 
destruction  of  the  invaders,  when  once  again  the 
destruction  was  changed.  Demosthenes  entered  the 
Great  Harbour  with  a  force  little,  if  at  all,  inferior 
to  that  which  had  appeared  before  Syracuse,  at  the 
beginning  of  the  first  campaign.  He  had  seventy-three 
ships  of  war,  five  thousand  heavy-armed,  and  a  mul- 


224  THE  FATAL   EXPEDITION. 

titude  of  light  troops.  The  Syracusans  were  struck 
with  astonishment  and  dismay.  It  seemed  as  if  they 
would  have  to  do  all  their  work  again. 

Demosthenes,  on  the  other  hand,  was  but  ill  pleased 
with  what  he  found — an  army  sadly  reduced  in 
number,  suffering  in  health,  and  dispirited.  He  saw  that 
immediate  action  was  absolutely  necessary.  Before 
his  own  strength  was  impaired,  and  before  the  enemy 
had  recovered  from  the  depression  caused  by  his 
arrival,  a  general  attack  must  be  made.  If  this  was 
successful,  Syracuse  might  even  yet  be  taken;  if  it 
failed,  there  was  nothing  left  but  to  return  home, 
before  further  losses  had  been  incurred. 

His  first  thought  was  to  take  the  Syracusan  works 
by  storm.  He  made  an  effort  and  failed.  The  defence 
was  too  vigorous.  The  alternative  was  to  turn  them, 
and  this  he  proceeded  to  attempt.  He  chose  a  moon- 
light night,  for  it  was  necessary  that  the  movement 
should  be  a  surprise,  and  arrived,  without  exciting 
the  attentions  of  the  enemy,  at  the  highest  point  of 
Epipolae.  The  fort  that  protected  the  extremity  of 
the  cross  wall  built  by  the  Syracusans,  fell  into  his 
hands,  a  Syracusan  regiment  that  hastened  up  to 
the  rescue  was  driven  back;  even  the  main  body, 
when  it  hurried  out  under  the  personal  command  of 
Gylippus,  was  compelled  to  retreat.  The  conquerors 
began  to  pull  down  the  cross  wall,  an  operation  of 
extreme  importance.    If  they  had  contented  themselves 


THE   FATAL   EXPEDITION.  225 

with  this,  all  might  have  been  well.  But  the  excite- 
ment of  the  success  carried  both  the  generals  and 
their  troops  away.  They  pursued  the  flying  Syracu- 
sans  in  such  haste  as  to  fall  into  disorder.  In  this 
state  they  encountered  a  solid  force  of  Boeotian 
infantry,  which  had  taken  no  part  in  the  battle.  The 
Boeotian  troops  were  of  the  very  best  quality.  In 
all  the  course  of  Greek  history  they  were  but  once 
only  ably  led.*  but  they  showed  several  times  of 
what  quality  they  were.  And  now  they  turned  the 
fortunes  of  the  day.  The  victorious  Athenians  were, 
in  their  turn,  beaten.  The  usual  consequences  of  an 
unsuccessful  night-attack  followed.  Friends  and  foes 
could  not  be  distinguished.  The  watchwords  became 
known,  and  ceased  to  be  of  any  use.  The  Dorian 
allies  of  the  Athenians,  many  of  them  new-comers  and 
personally  unknown  to  their  fellow-soldiers,  were,  in 
particular,  mistaken  for  foes.  Their  war-cry  or  paean 
was  the  same  as  the  Syracusans,  and  so  became  a 
special  cause  of  confusion,  striking  terror  into  the 
Athenians,  who  fancied,  when  they  heard  it,  that 
they  had  enemies  in  their  midst  and  in  their  rear. 
There  was  soon  a  general  flight.  The  narrow  road 
that  led  from  Epipolae  to  the  Athenian  camp  was  so 
crowded  with  fugitives  as  to  become  impassable. 
Many  of  the  terror-stricken  soldiers  tried  to  climb 
down  the  cliffs,  and  perished  in  the  attempt.  Others 
*  By  Epaminondas  and  Pelopidas. 

15 


226  THP    FATAL    EXPEDITION. 

who  contrived  to  get  safely  to  the  bottojn,  lost  their 
way,  especially  the  new-comers,  and  were  cut  down 
by  the  cavalry.  The  loss  of  the  army  was  between 
two  and  three  thousand  men. 

Demosthenes  now  urged  immediate  departure. 
It  was  clearly  impossible,  he  said,  to  capture  Syra- 
cuse. The  best  thing  that  could  be  done  was  to 
save  as  much  of  the  armament  as  possible.  All 
were  greatly  wanted  at  home,  where  Attica  had 
been  again  invaded  and  ravaged  by  a  Peloponnesian 
force.  Retreat,  too,  for  the  present  was  possible. 
The  new  ships,  brought  by  Demosthenes,  had  restored 
their  naval  superiority.  Nicias  vehemently  opposed 
the  proposition.  Whatever  his  arguments  were,  his 
real  motive  is  plain.  He  was  simply  afraid  to  return 
to  Athens,  when  he  had  such  an  utter  failure  to 
confess.  Two  of  his  colleagues  (the  two  associated 
with  him  in  the  command  before  the  arrival  of  the 
reinforcements)  voted  with  him,  and  Demosthenes 
had  to  yield. 

Failing  absolute  retreat,  Demosthenes  urged  depar- 
ture from  the  position  occupied  in  the  Great  Harbour 
to  Catana  or  Thapsus,  Nicias  again  opposed,  and 
was  again  supported  in  his  decision  by  a  majority 
of  votes.  The  Athenians  remained  where  they  were, 
doing  nothing,  but  gradually  losing  both  strength 
and  hope. 

About    a   month   later,    Gylippus,    who    had  been 


THE   FATAL   EXPEDITION.  227 

« 

absent,  recruiting  new  troops  and  finding  more  allies, 
returned  with  a  considerable  force.  The  sight  seems 
to  have  convinced  even  Nicias  that  retreat  was  now 
the  only  possible  course,  or,  anyhow,  overcame  liis 
opposition.  Orders  were  privately  circulated  through 
the  camp,  that  the  armament  was  to  depart  when 
a  certain  signal  should  be  given.  Everything  was 
prepared,  the  ships  were  loaded,  the  men  were  ready 
to  depart,  when  an  unexpected  cause  led  to  a  fresh 
delay.  On  the  night  proceeding  the  appointed  day, 
the  moon  was  eclipsed.  *  It  has  been  said  that  the 
superstitious  temper  of  Nicias  is  responsible  for  this 
fatal  postponement,  for  fatal  it  certainly  was.  This 
is  not  fair.  Nicias  did  but  express  the  general 
feeling  of  the  army,  which  actually  demanded  the 
delay.  The  prophets  declared  that  the  departure 
must  be  postponed  for  a  whole  lunar  month,  f 

The  intentions,  so  strangely  baffled,  did  not  escape, 
we  may  be  sure,  the  knowledge  of  the  Syracusans. 
They  took  it  for  what  it  actually  was,  a  confession 

•  The  eclipse  took  place  on  August  27th,  413. 

t  It  is  curious  that  the  Athenian  writer  Philochorus  (about  a 
century  later)  declares  that  the  prophets  were  wrong  in  their 
interpretation  of  the  portent.  An  eclipse  ouglit  to  have  been 
considered  a  favourable  sign,  by  persons  engaged  in  an  under- 
taking which  could  be  best  carried  out  in  secrecy.  Philochorus 
was  himself  a  soothsayer,  holding  at  Athens  an  office  not 
unlike  to  that  of  the  augurs  at  Rome. 


228  THE   FATAL   EXPEDITtOH. 

of  defeat,  and  were  made  proportionately  confident. 
A  few  days  afterwards  Gylippus  made  a  combined 
demonstration  with  his  fleet  and  army.  The  fleet, 
though  inferior  in  number— seventy-six  against  eighty- 
six — won  a  complete  victory.  The  centre  division 
was  broken  through,  and  the  left  driven  ashore  in 
the  Bay  of  Daskon,  a  recess  in  the  Great  Harbour. 
The  commander,  one  of  the  board  of  five  generals, 
was  slain. 

Something  like  absolute  destruction  of  the  arma- 
ment was  averted,  or  rather  postponed,  only  by  an 
incautious  movement  on  the  part  of  Gylippus.  He 
hurried  down  with  some  companies,  to  prevent  the 
escape  of  the  crews  from  the  stranded  ships.  But 
his  march  was  so  disorderly  that  some  Etrusean 
auxiliaries  who  were  guarding  the  extreme  right  of 
the  Athenian  position  fell  upon  his  men  as  they 
passed,  and  drove  them  with  some  loss  into  the 
marshes  that  skirted  the  left  bank  of  the  Anapus. 
Other  Syracusan  troops  came  to  their  help,  and  the 
Etruscans  were  also  reinforced  from  the  Athenian 
lines.  The  victory  rested  at  last  with  the  latter. 
They  did  not  inflict  much  loss  on  the  enemy,  but 
they  saved  the  ships  and  the  crews. 

The  Syracusans  would  not  have  been  content  with 
anything  short  of  the  absolute  annihilation  of  the 
Athenian  force.  To  bring  about  this  result,  they 
proceeded  to  close  the  mouth  of  the  Great  Harbour, 


THE    FATAL    EXPEDITION.  229 

a  space  of  about  a  mile,  the  inner  city  of  Syracuse 
being  one  end  of  the  line,  the  promontory  of  Plem- 
myrium  the  other.  All  kinds  of  vessels,  ships  of  war, 
merchantmen,  and  fishing  boats,  were  strongly  bound 
together  by  iron  chains,  while  they  were  kept  in 
their  place  by  anchors.  The  work  was  accomplished 
without  any  attempt  at  interruption,  as  far  as  we 
know,  on  the  part  of  the  Athenians. 

The  generals  had  now  to  choose  between  two 
possible  chances  of  escape.  Should  they  endeavour 
to  break  through  the  line  of  ships,  or  should  they 
try  an  overland  march,  in  the  hope  of  reaching  the 
country  of  the  friendly  tribes  of  the  interior?  Not 
a  few  were  in  favour  of  the  second  course.  The 
army  had  held  its  own  better  than  the  fleet,  and  a 
start  at  least  might  be  made  without  opposition. 
On  the  other  hand,  if  they  could  only  regain  the 
mastery  of  the  sea,  their  escape  was  practically 
assured ;  the  fleet  had  only  to  make  for  home,  carrying 
all  the  survivors  of  the  expedition  with  it.  An  army, 
almost  without  provisions,  and  encumbered  by  a 
multitude  of  non-combatants,  would  be  almost  as 
helpless  after  its  escape,  as  before  it.  The  generals 
accordingly  resolved  to  try  what  the  ships  could  do. 
They  abandoned  the  greater  part  of  the  investing 
lines,  so  as  to  reduce,  as  far  as  possible,  the  force 
needed  for  guarding  them,  and  put  every  available 
man  on  shipboard  to  serve,  either  as  rower  or  com- 


230  THE    FATAL    EXPEDITION. 

batant,  while  they  did  the  best  that  their  stores 
permitted  to  increase  the  efficiency  of  their  ships. 
One  hundred  and  ten,  in  the  end,  were  manned  and 
equipped.  Before  the  crews  embarked,  Nicias  ad- 
dressed them.  He  explained  the  arrangements  which 
had  been  made,  the  unusual  number  of  combatants 
which  had  been  crowded  on  to  the  decks,  and  the 
grappling  irons  which  were  to  be  freely  used  as  soon 
as  they  came  to  close  quarters  with  the  enemy.  No 
appeals  were  made  to  the  old  Athenian  reputation 
for  seamanship.  The  battle  to  be  fought  was  to  be  a 
land-battle  on  the  water.  The  hope  of  victory  depended 
upon  the  resolution  of  the  boarding  parties,  to  make 
good  their  footing  on  the  decks  of  the  enemies'  ships. 
To  the  allies  in  the  first,  privileged,  as  he  said,  to 
share  the  glories  of  Athens,  to  the  Athenians  in  the 
second,  heirs  as  they  were  of  a  great  empire,  now 
seriously  imperilled,  Nicias  addressed  an  urgent 
appeal.  Victory  would  retrieve  everything ;  defeat 
meant  destruction,  both  for  themselves  and  their 
country. 

The  address  concluded,  the  crews  embarked.  But 
Nicias  had  yet  something  to  say  to  the  captains. 
He  addressed  them  one  by  one,  and  urged  them  by 
every  argument,  personal  or  general,  that  he  could 
think  of,  to  do  their  duty. 

The  Syracusan  fleet  numbered  seventy-six  only, 
but  it  was  well  equipped,  well  manned,  and  confident. 


THE    FATAL    EXPEDITION.  231 

And  the  whole  of  it,  it  must  be  remembered,  was 
free  to  assume  the  offensive.  The  Athenians  had  to 
break  the  blockadmg  line ;  their  antagonists  could 
assail  them  as  and  where  they  pleased,  while  they 
were  making  the  attempt.  For  a  short  time  the 
effort  to  break  through  seemed  as  if  it  might  succeed. 
It  would,  doubtless,  have  succeeded,  had  there  been 
nothing  else  to  do.  But  the  Athenians  had  to  defend 
themselves  from  attack  from  behind,  and  before  long 
the  struggle  was  transferred  from  the  blockading 
line,  to  the  area  of  the  Great  Harbour  The  whole 
of  this  was  the  scene  of  a  fierce  conflict,  fiercer  than 
had  ever  been  fought  before  in  this  war,  and  more 
crowded — nearly  two  hundred  ships,  m  a  space 
measuring  only  two  miles  by  one  Of  manoeuvring, 
there  was  but  little;  even  the  ram  was  scarcely  used, 
The  battle  was  a  long  succession  of  chance  encounters, 
fought  as  the  generals  had  foreseen,  like  a  battle  on 
land.  As  the  hostile  ships  were  nearing  each  other 
the  javelin-men  and  slingers  did  their  part;  when 
they  closed,  the  heavy-armed  attempted  to  board. 
Evidently  it  was  a  soldiers'  battle ;  the  din  and 
confusion  made  it  impossible  even  to  hear  the  orders 
that  were  given.  Victory  could  but  rest  with  the 
most  vigorous,  the  freshest,  the  most  confident  side. 
The  spectators  on  shore  watched  the  struggle  with 
an  intensity  of  interest  never  surpassed.  Had  it  been 
but    a   mimic   spectacle,   it   would  have  been  a  pro- 


232  THE   FATAL   EXPrDTTTON. 

foundly  exciting  sight.  But  those  who  watched  knew 
that  their  own  life  and  liberty  were  at  stake,  and 
showed  it  by  their  cries,  running  down  all  the  scale 
from  triumph  to  despair — for  the  fortune  of  the  day 
changed  from  hour  to  hour,  and  varied  in  this  place 
and  in  that— by  their  very  gestures,  involuntary  ex- 
pressions of  quickly  succeeding  moods.  The  conflict 
was  obstinate  and  long,  for  the  vanquished  did  not 
yield  till  they  could  fight  no  more,  but  it  ended  in 
the  absolute  defeat  of  the  Athenians.  Fifty  of  their 
ships  were  disabled,  of  their  adversaries  more  than 
half  as  many. 

This  nominal  superiority  suggested  to  Demosthenes, 
the  most  vigorous  and  sanguine  of  the  Athenian 
commanders,  that  another  attempt  should  be  made 
the  next  day  to  break  through  the  line  of  blockade. 
The  seamen,  however,  had  lost  all  heart,  and  flatly 
refused  to  go.  The  alternative  was  to  retreat  by 
land,  and  this,  by  common  consent,  it  was  resolved 
to  do.  It  is  possible  that,  if  this  movement  had  been 
executed  at  once,  some  advantage  might  have  been 
gained.  The  army  was  still  a  formidable  force,  and 
if  it  could  have  escaped  from  its  present  position  and 
have  reached  a  place  where  defence  was  possible  and 
supplies — for  the  commissariat  was  the  chief  difficulty 
— attainable,  it  could  have  obtained  favourable  terms. 
The  Syracusan  generals  foresaw  this  possibility,  and 
were   anxious    at   once    to    occupy    positions    which 


THE    FATAL    EXPEDITION.  283 

would  cut  off  <^ treat.  But  the  soldiers  could  not 
be  induced  to  move.  The  pressure  of  anxiety  was 
now  finally  removed,  and  the  people  could  think  of 
nothing  but  enjoying  themselves.  A  great  festival 
happened  to  coincide  with  the  day  of  victory,  and 
the  whole  population  had  abandoned  itself  to  revelry. 
The  generals  had,  therefore,  recourse  to  the  following 
device :  Nicias,  as  they  well  knew,  had  friends  within 
the  city  who  informed  him  of  what  was  going  on. 
A  message,  purporting  to  come  from  them,  was  sent 
to  the  Athenian  camp.  It  was  to  the  effect  that  the 
army  had  better  not  attempt  a  retreat  that  night, 
for  the  roads  were  guarded.  It  would  be  better  to 
postpone  it  for  a  day,  when  the  watchfulness  of  the 
Syracusan  force  would  be  relaxed,  while  they  would 
themselves  be  better  prepared  for  the  operation.  It 
does  not  appear  that  anything,  even  a  forged  letter, 
was  used  to  gain  credence  for  this  advice.  Some 
horseman  rode  up  to  the  Athenian  line  and  shouted 
out  the  information,  and  Nicias,  by  what  seems  to  us 
extraordinary  siuiplicity  or  infatuation,  believed  it. 
The  start  was  postponed,  and  that  for  two  days. 

When  it  took  place,  the  scene,  as  the  historian 
describes  it,  was  most  deplorable.  That  the  dead 
were  left  unburied,  was  shocking  to  the  conscience 
of  a  Greek;  but  it  was  a  still  more  piteous  thing 
that  the  sick  and  wounded  had  to  be  abandoned. 
These  poor  deserted  creatures  protested  and  prayed; 


234  THE   FATAL    EXPEDITION. 

they  clung  to  departing  friends  or  comrades  or  kins- 
folk; some  followed  the  army  till  their  strength 
failed  them.  Nothmg  could  be  done  to  help  them; 
the  able-bodied  had  but  the  faintest  hope  of  escaping, 
for  it  was  a  cumbrous  body,  ill  suited  for  rapid 
movement,  like  a  whole  city  in  flight,  as  the  his- 
torian puts  it.  It  numbered  no  less  than  forty 
thousand,  marching  in  the  form  of  a  hollow  square,  with 
the  non-combatants  and  the  baggage  m  the  middle. 
The  first  obstacle  encountered  was  the  river  Anapus. 
Here  they  found  the  ford  occupied  by  a  hostile  force. 
This,  however,  was  driven  back  without  much  loss, 
and  the  river  was  crossed.  Five  miles  only  were 
accomplished  on  the  first  day  On  the  second  no 
progress  at  all  was  made.  The  Athenians,  indeed, 
advanced  a  little  over  two  miles  in  the  morning, 
but  they  had  to  halt  to  secure  some  provisions,  and 
the  enemy  availed  themselves  of  this  delay  to  occupy 
a  narrow  pass  in  the  road  which,  as  it  had  become 
evident,  they  intended  to  take.  But  the  fugitives 
could  not  even  reach  this  place.  The  attacks  of  the 
cavalry  and  the  skirmishers  were  so  harassing,  that 
they  returned  to  the  camp  which  they  had  occupied 
the  night  before.  The  next  day,  the  same  hopeless 
struggle  was  repeated  and  with  almost  the  same 
result.  They  did  not,  indeed,  return  to  the  camp, 
but  the  spot  at  which  they  bivouacked  was  but  a 
rnile  in  advance  of  it. 


THE   FATAL    EXPEDITION.  235 

The  generals  now  resolved  on  a  change  of  route. 
Instead  of  forcing  their  way  over  the  high  ground 
which  lay  between  them  and  the  interior,  they 
determined  to  turn  to  the  southern  coast.  They 
might  thus  strike  one  or  other  of  two  river  valleys, 
by  which  they  might  reach  the  interior — still,  as  being 
inhabited  by  friendly  native  tribes,  the  point  at 
which  they  aimed. 

Numerous  fires  being  left  burning  to  deceive  the 
enemy,  a  start  was  made  during  the  night.  By  day- 
break the  front  division,  which  Nicias  commanded, 
had  reached  the  nearer  of  the  two  river  valleys. 
By  the  end  of  the  day  he  had  made  some  progress, 
encamping  on  some  high  ground  on  the  further  side 
of  the  second  river. 

The  division  under  Demosthenes,  comprising  as  it 
did  the  larger  and  less  effective  part  of  the  army, 
was  later  in  starting  and  even  slower  in  movement,  so 
great  were  the  confusion  and  panic  in  its  ranks.  Soon 
overtaken  by  the  Syracusans,  it  was  compelled  to 
turn  and  defend  itself.  Defence,  however,  in  any 
real  sense  of  the  word,  was  impossible.  The  enemy 
would  not  come  to  close  quarters,  but  overwhelmed 
the  unhappy  objects  of  their  attack  with  showers  of 
missiles.  Again  the  division  attempted  to  move 
onward.  They  found  themselves  in  a  large  enclosure, 
the  olive-yard  of  Polyzelus  *  as  it  was  called.     Egress 

*  Polyzelus  was  a  brother  of  Gelon,  tyrant  of  Syracuse  (d.  478). 


236  THE    FATAL    EXPEDITION. 

from  this,  at  the  further  end,  was  blocked,  while  the 
walls  were  covered  with  slingers  and  javelin-men,  who 
showered  missiles  on  the  helpless  mass.*  Gylippus, 
who  was  in  command  of  the  pursuing  force,  sent  a 
herald,  promising  liberty  to  all  islanders  (natives,  i.e. 
of  the  islands  included  in  the  Delian  confederation)  who 
chose  to  leave  the  Athenians.  Few  only  responded 
to  this  appeal.  He  then  offered  their  lives  to  all  who 
would  give  up  their  arms.  These  terms  were  accepted. 
Prisoners,  to  the  number  of  six  thousand  in  all,  were 
disarmed,  and  taken  to  Syracuse.  Demosthenes  was 
on  the  point  of  killing  himself,  when  he  was  dis- 
armed. 

Gylippus  now  followed  in  pursuit  of  the  division 
led  by  Nicias,  and  overtook  it  about  twelve  miles 
from  the  point  from  which  it  had  started.  He  sent 
a  horseman  to  inform  its  commander  of  the  surrender 
of  Demosthenes  with  his  division,  and  to  summon 
him  to  follow  his  example.  Nicias,  alleging  that  he 
could  not  believe  the  news,  asked  leave  to  send  a 
messenger,  who  might  have  it  confirmed  by  the  mouth 
of  his  colleague.  The  man  went  and  returned,  with 
the  result  that  Nicias  proposed  terms  of  capitulation. 
Athens  should  reimburse  the  Syracusans  for  all  the 
expenses  of  the  war,  and  a  certain  number  of  Athen- 
ian citizens  should  remain  as  hostage  for  payment. 

•  We  may  compare  the  position  of  the  division  of  Demosthenes 
with  that  of  the  French  army  at  Sedan. 


THE   FATAL   EXPEDITION.  287 

one  man  for  each  talent.  Gylippus  refused  these 
terms.  Early  the  next  morning  Nicias  recommenced 
his  march.  The  point  at  which  he  now  aimed  was 
the  ford  of  the  river  Asinarus,  some  five  miles  further 
on.  The  ford,  when  he  reached  it,  was  found  to  be 
held  in  force  by  the  Syracusan  cavalry.  Here  all 
the  discipline  of  the  Athenians  broke  down.  Mad- 
dened with  thirst,  for  want  of  water  was  now  added 
to  their  sufferings,  they  rushed  into  the  river  and 
were  slaughtered  in  crowds,  while  they  attempted  to 
quench  their  thirst.  Even  when  the  water  grew 
turbid  and  tainted  with  blood,  the  new-comers  still 
crowded  in  and  di-ank.  Nicias  could  do  nothing 
now  but  surrender.  He  gave  himself  up  to  Gylippus. 
He  had  been,  during  all  his  public  life,  a  partisan  of 
Sparta,  and  he  hoped  that  he  should  receive  from  a 
Spartan  general  kinder  treatment  than  the  Syracusan 
authorities  would  be  likely  to  accede  to  him.  It 
was  some  time  before  the  slaughter  could  be  stopped. 
When  it  was,  the  survivors,  about  four  thousand  in 
number,  were  disarmed.  The  Athenian  army  had 
ceased  to  exist;  even  a  company  of  three  hundred 
which  had  got  away  in  the  night,  was  overtaken  by 
the  cavalry  and  compelled  to  surrender. 

It  is  difficult  to  estimate  the  loss  which  Athens 
suffered  by  this  disastrous  expedition.  It  was  such 
as,  in  the  judgment  of  the  historian,  no  Greek  city 
had  ever  suffered  before.    Though  no  complete  division 


238  THE    FATAL    EXPEDITION. 

of  the  army  made  good  its  retreat,  some  stragglers 
escaped  to  Catana,  where  they  found  a  friendly  wel- 
come, which  they  were  able  to  return  by  defending 
that  city  against  its  powerful  neighbour,  Syracuse. 
Many  of  the  prisoners  captured  with  Nicias,  and 
some  of  those  who  had  belonged  to  the  division  of 
Demosthenes,  were  secreted  and  sold  for  the  private 
profit  of  their  captors.  Some  of  these  contrived  to 
get  away;  others  were  ransomed  by  their  friends. 
The  lot  of  those  who  fell  into  the  hands  of  the 
Syracusan  authorities  was  more  unhappy.  They  were 
confined  in  stone  quarries,  of  which  there  were 
several  both  within  and  without  the  walls  of  the 
city.  Crowded  together  in  these  places,  exposed  to 
the  sun  by  day  and  the  cold  by  night — it  was  now 
autumn— with  the  scanty  provision  of  about  half  a 
pint  of  water  and  a  pound  of  bread,  they  endured 
frightful  sufferings.  They  died  in  numbers,  and  the 
dead  bodies  were  left  to  rot  among  the  surviving. 
It  was  only  when  the  place  became  an  intolerable 
nuisance,  and  a  serious  danger  to  health,  that  the 
survivors  were  removed. 

Gylippus  made  an  effort  to  save  the  captive  gen- 
erals. Demosthenes  had  inflicted  on  Sparta  the  most 
serious  loss  that  it  had  suffered,  the  loss  of  the 
prisoners  of  Sphakteria ;  Nicias,  as  has  been  said,  had 
always  been  Sparta's  friend.  Both,  accordingly,  though 
for   different   reasons,   would   have  been  a  welcome 


EURIPIDES. 
From  a  Bust  in  the  Museum  at  Naples. 


THE    FATAL    EXPEDITION.  239 

sight  in  the  streets  of  Sparta,  if  Gylippus  had  been 
permitted  to  take  them  thither.  But  he  was  overruled. 
The  Syracusan  Assembly  passed  a  desire  that  both 
should  be  put  to  death.  All  that  Gylippus  could  do, 
was  to  save  them  from  the  ignominy  of  a  public 
execution,  by  enabling  them  to  put  an  end  to  their 
own  lives. 

In  this  dismal  story  there  is  one  redeeming  feature. 
"  Some,"  says  Plutarch,  telling  the  story  of  the  Sicilian 
expedition  in  his  Life  of  Nicias,  "owed  their  safety 
to  the  poems  of  Euripides,  whose  poems  were  more 
popular  among  the  Syracusans  than  among  any  other 
Greeks.  Any  passages  from  these  they  gladly  learnt 
and  repeated  to  each  other.  And  some  of  the  sur- 
vivors of  the  expedition,  returning  to  Athens,  thanked 
Euripides  for  the  service  which  his  verses  had  done 
them,  in  earning  for  them  the  kindness  of  their 
masters* 


CHAPTER  XVm 

THE  LAST  STRUGGLE, 

WHATEVER  we  may  think  of  the  character  of 
the  Athenian  democracy,  however  great  the 
faults  we  may  lay  to  its  charge— fickleness,  arrogance, 
cruelty  to  its  dependents — there  can  be  no  doubt  as 
to  the  magnificent  courage  and  resolution,  with  which 
it  struggled  on  under  the  pressure  of  ruinous  losses, 
and  against  overwhelming  odds.  The  disastrous  end 
of  the  expedition  against  Syracuse  had  been  a  heavier 
blow  to  Athens  than  it  is  easy  for  us  to  conceive. 
We  have  seen  that  more  than  two  thousand  citizen 
soldiers  went  with  the  first  armament,  and  that  the 
number  was  afterwards  increased.  It  is  probable  that 
more  than  half  of  these  never  returned.  Comparing 
these  numbers  with  the  total  population  of  the  city, 
which  probably  did  not  include  more  than  twenty 
thousand  citizens  of  all  ages,  it  is  not  too  much  to 
say  that  modem  history  records  no  such  disaster 
proportionately  so  great.     It  means  the  loss  of  two 

MO 


THE    LAST    STRUGGLE.  241 

fifths  of  the  able-bodied  males.  Prance  suffered 
heavily  during  the  Franco-Prussian  war,  but  to  suffer 
as  heavily  as  Athens  in  the  year  416 — 415  she  would 
have  had  to  lose  absolutely  two  million  soldiers.  And 
yet  for  ten  years  more  the  gallant  democracy  of 
Athens  struggled  on.  In  406  it  seemed  as  if  the 
end  had  come.  The  Peloponnesian  fleet,  under  the 
command  of  the  ablest,  and  we  may  add  the  noblest, 
man  that  Sparta  ever  produced,  Brasidas,  perhaps, 
only  excepted,  Callicratidas,  *  had  blockaded  the  last 
Athenian  fleet  in  the  harbour  of  Mitylene.  Conon, 
its  commander,  had,  indeed,  had  a  narrow  escape  of 
losing  his  fleet  altogether.  It  was  only  by  the  superior 
speed,  obtained  by  reducing  the  number  of  his  ships 
and  transferring  the  best  rowers  into  the  remainder, 
that  he  had  been  able  to  get  to  Mitylene  at  all. 
Even  then  his  pursuers  had  entered  the  harbour 
along  with  him,  and  he  had  been  compelled  to  fight. 
Thirty  out  of  his  seventy  ships  had  been  sunk,  and 
the  remaining  forty  saved  only  by  hauling  them  up 
on  shore,  close  to  the  wall.  These  forty  ships,  unable 
to  put  to  sea,  were,  for  the  time,  all  that  remained 
of  the  fleet,  with  which  five-and-twenty  years  before 
Athens  had  ruled  the  seas. 

•  The  nobility  of  Callicratidas's  character  is  shown  especially 
in  his  refusal  to  intrigue  for  the  favour  of  the  Persians,  and 
by  his  generosity  in  setting  free  the  prisoners — Lesbians  and 
Athenians — captured  at  Methymna. 

16 


242  THE    LAST    STRUGGLE. 

Conon,  though  safe  for  the  moment,  was  in  the 
greatest  straits.  Mitylene  was  crowded  with  fugitives 
from  the  island,  and  had  not  been  provisioned  for  a  siege. 
The  only  hope  was  in  speedy  relief  from  Athens,  and 
the  first  question  was,  how  to  convey  the  tidings. 
Two  of  the  swiftest  ships,  manned  by  the  best 
rowers  in  the  fleet,  were  exercised  for  four  days;  at 
noon  on  the  fifth,  when  the  blockading  force  was  in 
its  least  watchful  temper,  they  made  a  rush  from 
the  harbour.  Separating  as  soon  as  they  were  outside, 
one  made  for  the  Hellespont,  the  head  of  the  other 
was  pointed  for  Athens.  Some  of  the  Peloponnesian 
squadron  started  in  hot  pursuit,  their  most  vigorous 
efforts  being  directed  to  the  ship  that  was  making 
for  Athens.  This  was  overhauled  at  sunset;  the 
other  escaped,  and  when  well  out  of  sight,  changed 
its  course,  and  carried  the  news  to  Athens. 

Meanwhile  another  disaster  had  happened.  A  small 
squadron,  which  had  been  detached  from  the  main 
force,  attempted,  with  what  seems  to  have  been 
somewhat  foolhardy  courage,  to  relieve  their  block- 
aded comrades.  The  Spartan  admiral  fell  upon  them 
unexpectedly,  as  they  lay  at  anchor,  and  captured  ten 
out  of  the  twelve  ships. 

At  Athens,  after  the  first  feeling  of  consternation 
had  passed  away,  the  people  rose  to  the  situation. 
Every  ship,  old  or  new,  if  only  it  could  float,  was 
hastily  made  ready  for  service,  and  a  levy  en  masse 


THE   LAST    STRUaOLK.  243 

of  the  whole  able-hodied*  population  of  the  city 
was  made.  No  class  was  allowed,  or  sought,  ex- 
emption. The  wealthy  knights,  who  were  not  called 
upon  to  serve  in  any  expedition  in  which  cavalry 
could  not  be  employed,  hung  up  their  bridles  in  the 
temples,  as  they  had  done  before  the  great  day  of 
Salamis,  and  embarked  as  marines.  Slaves,  as  well 
as  freemen,  were  enlisted,  and  were  encouraged  to 
be  faithful  and  brave  by  the  promise  of  freedom  when 
the  danger  was  passed.  The  result  of  this  energetic 
action  was  that  one  hundred  and  ten  ships  were 
equipped  and  manned  in  the  space  of  thirty  days. 
From  the  PirsBus  the  fleet  sailed  to  Samos,  where  it 
was  joined  by  a  squadron  of  ten  ships.  Thirty  more 
came  from  the  other  allies,  swelling  the  total  number 
to  one  hundred  and  fifty.  Callicratidas  had  a  total 
force  of  one  hundred  and  seventy.  Fifty  of  these  he 
left  to  continue  the  blockade  of  Mitylene ;  with  the 
rest  he  sailed  to  meet  the  relieving  fleet.  He  pur- 
posed making  a  night  attack,  which  would  probably 
have  greatly  endangered  the  hasty  levies  opposed  to 
him,  but  was  prevented  by  a  heavy  down-pour  of 
rain  and  a  thunderstorm,  from  putting  to  sea.  The 
weather  cleared  at  daybreak,  and  he  sailed  to  meet 
the  Athenian  fleet.  This  was  massed  in  close  bodies, 
the   line   being   made  so    strong   that   the   dreaded 

*  All  the  males  from  eighteen  te  mKtj, 


244  THE   LAST    STRUGGLE. 

manoeuvre  of  the  'diecplus**  could  not  be  employed. 
The  reason  given  by  the  historian,  himself  an  Athen- 
ian, for  the  adoption  of  these  tactics  is  that  "  they 
were  inferior  in  sailing  power.  *  The  Lacedaemonians, 
he  adds,  *  trusting  to  their  superior  seamanship, " 
endeavoured  to  execute  the  manoeuvre  of  which  their 
adversaries  stood  in  so  much  fear.  These  admissions, 
which  are  made  without  a  word  of  comment,  are 
most  significant.  They  mark  the  beginning  of  the 
end.  In  the  early  days  of  the  war  the  nautical 
superiority  of  the  Athenians  had  been  most  marked. 
But  times  had  changed.  The  long  struggle  of  a 
quarter  of  a  century  had  drained  Athens  of  its  best 
blood.  The  skilful  seamen  of  the  old  time  had 
perished  in  countless  battles,  or  had  grown  too  old 
for  service,  and  their  place  was  filled  by  an  inefficient 
multitude,  most  of  whom  were  wholly  strange  to  their 
work.  On  the  day  of  Arginusse,  however,  (the  White 
Islets),  for  so  the  battle  was  called,  from  the  station 
occupied  by  the  Athenian  fleet,  something  of  the  old 
splendour  of  Athens,  in  courage  and  skill,  was  to  flash 
out  again  for  the  last  time. 

•  The  ■diecplus"  was  a  rapid  forward  movement,  which 
hrought  the  attacking  ships  hetween  those  that  were  standing 
on  the  defensive,  followed  by  an  equally  rapid  turn  which 
enabled  them  to  "  ram "  the  adversaries  on  the  side.  To  be 
practised  with  success  this  required  a  skilful  steersman  and  a 
well- practised  crew. 


THE    LAST    STRUGGLE.  245 

The  Spartan  admiral  was  advised  by  one  of  his 
allies  to  postpone  an  engagement  till  he  could  meet 
the  enemy  with  equal  numbers.  He  refused.  *  Sparta," 
he  said,  "will  not  suffer  for  losing  a  single  citizen," 
and  he  gave  the  order  to  advance.  The  battle  was 
obstinately  contested.  For  a  time  the  opposing  fleets 
preserved  the  order  in  which  they  had  been  drawn 
up;  then  the  struggle  was  waged  by  single  ships, 
anyhow  and  anywhere,  just  as  they  happened  to 
meet.  The  Peloponnesians  lost  their  gallant  com- 
mander. He  was  standing  on  the  prow  of  his  ship, 
as  this  was  driven  against  an  enemy,  eager,  it  would 
seem,  to  head  a  boarding  party.  It  was  a  strange 
purpose,  one  cannot  but  think,  in  an  admiral  who 
was  responsible  for  the  conduct  of  a  hundred  ships, 
but  a  Greek  could  seldom  resist  the  delight  of  actual 
conflict.  *  The  shock  of  the  impact  made  him  lose 
his  footing ;  he  fell  into  the  sea,  and  clad  as  he  was 
in  heavy  armour,  was  drowned.  Nine  out  of  the 
small  Spartan  squadron  of  ten  ships  were  destroyed 
at  the  same  time,  and  sixty-eight  from  the  rest  of 
the  fleet.  If  Conon  at  Mitylene  could  have  known 
what  had  happened,  he  might  have  completed  the 
victory  by  attacking  the  blockading  squadron.  This 
was  saved  by  an  ingenious  device.    The  officer  in 

*  Alexander  the  Great  was  in  the  habit  of  fighting  like  a 
private  soldier.  Doubtless,  he  found  his  profit  in  so  doing,  bat 
it  was  a  tremendous  risk  for  the  armj. 


246  TBI  LAST   STRUOOLB. 

command  heard  the  news  from  the  admiraFs  signal 
boat.  He  directed  it  to  leave  the  harbour,  and  then 
to  return,  crowned  with  triumphal  garlands,  with  its 
men  uttering  shouts  of  triumph.  Conon  was  deceived 
and  made  no  movement.  That  same  night  the  squadron 
secretly  left  its  station,  and  effected  a  junction  with 
what  remained  of  the  defeated  fleet. 

The  Athenian  fleet  lost  twenty-five  ships.  Unfor- 
tunately, nearly  all  of  the  sailors  and  marines  on 
board  of  them  were  drowned.  From  this  came  the 
melancholy  sequel  of  my  story. 

The  despatch  announcing  the  victory  brought,  also, 
the  sad  intelligence  that  the  crews  of  the  ships  that 
had  been  lost  had  perished  with  them;  the  corpses 
of  the  slain  had  not  been  recovered  for  burial,  the 
survivors  had  not  been  picked  up.  A  squadron  had, 
indeed,  been  told  off  for  this  service,  but  a  sudden 
storm  had  prevented  its  execution. 

The  truth  of  the  account  was  doubted  at  home, 
and  not,  as  will  be  seen,  without  reason.  Two  of 
the  generals  were  prudent  enough  not  to  return  to 
the  city ;  the  others  were  arrested  shortly  after  their 
arrival,  on  the  charge  of  having  neglected  their  duty. 
At  first,  it  seemed  possible  that  their  explanations 
might  be  accepted  by  the  majority  of  their  fellow- 
countrymen.  A  great  victory  had  been  won,  and  it 
would  ill  become  Athens  to  deal  harshly  with  those 
who  had  saved  her.    It  is  possible  that,  if  the  matter 


THE  iJlst  struoolb.  247 

had  been  decided  in  the  first  Assembly,  the  accused 
might  have  been  acquitted.  But  the  debate  had 
lasted  long  ;  it  was  so  dark  it  would  have  been 
impossible  to  count  the  show  of  hands.  Accordingly, 
the  Assembly  was  adjourned. 

Before  it  met  again  the  festival  of  the  Apaturia 
had  come  round.  It  was  a  time  of  family  gatherings, 
a  time,  therefore,  when  the  loss  of  kinsmen  would  be 
most  vividly  felt.  Xenophon  tells  us  that  the  party 
adverse  to  the  generals  actually  hired  men  to  per- 
sonate bereaved  mourners.  This  seems  hard  to 
believe.  It  may  mean  nothing  more  than  that  the 
mourners  were  urged  to  make  a  parade  of  their  loss 
and  their  sorrow.  Anyhow,  the  number  of  persons 
seen  in  mourning  during  the  festival,  profoundly 
affected  the  people ;  and  when  they  met  at  the 
adjourned  Assembly,  their  temper  was  fiercely  hostile. 

That  there  had  been  neglect  seems  beyond  doubt. 
Xenophon  repeats  at  length  the  speech  of  one  of 
the  accused  generals.  The  speaker  makes  admissions 
which  prove  that  the  anger  of  the  people  was  not 
without  justification.  The  truth  was,  that  the  excuse 
about  the  storm  was  not  true.  The  facts  were  as 
follows:  When  the  victory  had  been  decided,  one 
of  the  generals  proposed  that  the  whole  fleet  should 
sail  out  in  line  (so  as  to  cover  as  wide  a  space  as 
possible)  and  pick  up  the  crews  of  the  ships  that 
had  been  sunk.     Another  was  in  favour  of  the  whole 


248  THE    LAST    STRUGGLE. 

fleet  proceeding  in  pursuit  of  the  enemy.  A  third 
proposed  a  middle  course.  Part  of  the  fleet  was  to 
sail  in  pursuit,  part  was  to  be  left  to  rescue  the 
survivors.  This  proposal  was  adopted,  and  it  was 
here  that  the  default  had  taken  place.  There  had 
been  a  storm,  it  is  true,  but  not  such  a  storm  as 
to  prevent  all  action.  The  speaker,  it  must  be  under- 
stood, did  not  admit  this  last  statement;  but  he 
revealed  a  significant  difference  of  opinion  among  the 
officers  m  command. 

But  if  the  people  had  some  cause  for  their  anger, 
the  way  in  which  they  proceeded  to  vent  it  on  the 
accused  was  blameable  in  the  extreme.  It  was  pro- 
posed that  all  the  accused  should  be  tried  at  once,  and 
that  the  fate  of  all  should  be  decided  by  a  single  vote. 

This  proposition  was  in  flagrant  violation  of  the 
law,  which  provided  that  every  accused  person  should 
be  tried  separately.  There  were  not  wanting  speakers 
who  reminded  the  Assembly  of  this  fact,  but  the 
majority  of  the  voters  was  too  excited  to  listen  to 
them.  Their  rage  had  been  roused  to  fury  by  the 
story  of  a.  man  who  professed  to  have  been  an  eye- 
witness of  the  disaster,  and  to  bring  a  message  from 
the  dead  to  their  countrymen  at  home.  The  man, 
who  must  be  ranked  amongst  the  liars  that  have 
reached  historic  fame,  declared  that  he  had  saved 
himself  by  clinging  to  an  empty  meal-tub,  that  as 
he  kept  himself  up  in  the  water,  he  had  been  sur- 


THE   LAST    STRUGGLE.  249 

rounded  by  drowning  men  who  had  commissioned 
him,  in  case  he  should  get  safe  to  land,  to  tell  the 
Athenians  how  they  had  fought  for  their  fatherland, 
and  how  the  generals  had  left  them  to  drown.  In 
vain  did  some  of  the  cooler  heads  in  the  Assembly 
endeavour  to  check  the  fury  of  the  people.  Even 
the  threat,  commonly  so  effective,  that  the  proposer 
of  this  illegal  proceeding  should  be  indicted  for  an 
unconstitutional  proceeding,  was  made  in  vain.  One 
of  the  accusers  proposed  that  if  those  who  used  this 
threat  should  persist  in  urging  it  on  the  present  occasion, 
they  should  be  included  in  the  same  indictment  with  the 
incriminated  generals.  Some  of  the  presiding  magis- 
trates refused  to  put  an  illegal  motion  to  the  Assembly. 
They  were  met  by  the  same  cry:  "  Put  it  or  you  also 
will  be  included."  With  one  exception  they  yielded 
to  the  clamour.  The  one  resolute  champion  of  right 
and  law  who  refused  to  give  way,  was  Socrates.  In 
one  account  Xenophon  declares  that  he  was  the 
acting  president  of  the  day;  in  another  he  describes 
him  as  one  of  the  magistrates.  Whatever  may  have 
been  the  case,  his  opposition  was  overruled.  His 
colleagues  put  the  motion,  without  waiting  for  his 
consent.  It  was  carried  by  a  majority,  after  an 
amendment,  providing  for  a  separate  trial,  had  been 
rejected,  but  only  by  a  second  show  of  hands.  The 
accused  were  put  to  death.  So  did  Athens  undo,  by 
an  act  of  fatal  ingratitude,  the  benefit  of  her  last  victory. 


CHAPTER  XIX. 

THE  EYE  OF  GREECS, 

THE  victory  of  Arginusse  was  barren  of  all  results, 
except,  indeed,  the  fatal  lesson  that  the  Athenian 
democracy  was  an  ill  mistress  to  serve.  Certain  it 
is,  that  she  found  no  one  to  serve  her  during  the  year 
that  followed  the  events  related  in  my  last  chapter. 
The  fleet  was  not  wanting  in  numbers.  The  losses  at 
Arginusse  had  been  more  than  made  up,  for  the  total  was 
now  one  hundred  and  eighty  ships.  And  Conon,  an  able 
and  energetic  officer  was  in  command.  Still,  something 
seems  to  have  been  wrong.  The  summer  was  wasted 
in  vague  and  desultory  movements.  Little  was 
done,  and  that  little  always  too  late.  The  final 
catastrophe  came  in  September.  The  Lacedaemonian 
Hoet,  under  its  able  commander,  Lysandor,  had  made 
a  rapid  movement  northwards,  and  had  captu'-ed  and 
sacked  the  wealthy  town  of  Lampsacus,  situated  on 
the  European  side  of  the  Hellespont,  and  an  old  ally 
of  Athena.     The  Athenian  fleet  followed  him,  was  too 


THE   ETE   OF   GREEOB.  251 

late  to  give  any  help  to  the  friendly  Lampsacenes, 
and  finally,  in  the  hope  of  bringing  abont  a  general 
engagement,  took  up  its  position  at  -^gospotami 
(Goat's-rivers),  a  spot  on  the  Asiatic  shore  directly 
opposite  to  Lampsaous.  The  position  was  singularly 
ill  chosen.  There  was  neither  harbour  nor  anchor- 
age ;  nor  could  any  supplies  be  obtained  for  the  crews 
nearer  than  at  Sestos,  nearly  two  miles  distant  by 
land  and  more  than  twice  as  much  by  sea.*  If  the 
Lacedasmonian  fleet  could  have  been  persuaded  to 
give  battle,  all  might  have  been  well,  but  the  wary 
Lysander  hoped  to  win  his  victory  at  a  smaller  cost. 
On  the  morning  after  their  arrival,  the  Athenians 
manned  their  vessels  and  sailed  across  the  Hellespont 
to  Lampsacus,  where  the  enemy  lay.  They  found 
him  prepared  for  battle,  his  fleet  drawn  up  in  regular 
array,  and  his  land  force  standing  on  the  shore,  ready 
to  give  such  help  as  might  be  wanted.  He  declined, 
however,  to  advance,  and  the  Athenians,  on  their 
part,  dared  not  hazard  an  attack.  For  four  days 
these  proceedings  were  repeated.  The  Athenians 
sailed  across  the  Hellespont,  and  returned  to  their 
position,  each  time  becoming  more  confident,  because 
more  contemptuous  of  what  they  considered  to  be 
Lysander's  cowardice  in  declining  battle.    But  the 

*  It  must  be  remembered  that  Greek  fleets  and  armiee  were 
not  regularly  provisioned,  but  had  to  depend  for  their  supply  of 
proyision  on  the  localities  where  they  were  operating. 


252  THE   EYE    OF    GREECE. 

Spartan  was  on  the  watch.  Every  day  the  Athenian 
ships  were  followed  by  some  swift  galleys,  who 
observed  carefully  how  the  crews  disposed  of  them- 
selves when  dismissed  for  the  day. 

Another  observer,  not  less  keen  and  more  friendly, 
was  at  hand.  Alcibiades  was  watching  events  from 
his  Thracian  castle,  and  saw  plainly  enough  the 
perilous  position  in  which  his  countrymen  were  placed. 
In  the  course  of  the  fifth  day  he  rode  up  to  the 
Athenian  camp.  "You  are  putting  yourselves,"  he 
said,  "at  great  disadvantage;  the  enemy  have  a 
convenient  harbour  at  their  command,  and  supplies 
within  easy  reach;  your  ships  lie  on  an  open  beach, 
and  your  men  have  to  fetch  everything  they  want 
from  a  distance."  This  advice  was  contemptuously 
repulsed.  "It  is  we,"  said  one  of  the  generals  to 
whom  he  had  addressed  himself,  "that  are  in  com- 
mand, not  you. "  Alcibiades,  believing  that  there  was 
more  than  mere  incompetence  behind  this  extraordinary 
disregard  of  the  commonest  precautions,  departed. 
He  "suspected  treachery,"  says  Plutarch,  and,  indeed, 
it  is  difficult  to  assign  any  other  cause  for  conduct, 
of  which  the  most  inexperienced  civilian  would  have 
seen  the  danger. 

For  five  more  days  the  same  state  of  things  con- 
tinued. The  Athenians  grew  more  and  more  reckless 
in  their  own  neglect  of  precautions.  Then  the  end 
came.     The  Athenian  fleet  had  made  its  usual  demon- 


THE    EYE    OP   GREECB.  253 

strati  on,  and  had  returned  to  its  station  at  -^gos- 
potami ;  the  crews  had  dispersed  to  get  their  mid-day 
meal.  Lysander's  swift  galleys,  following  these  move- 
ments as  on  the  previous  days,  hoisted  the  signal — 
a  bright  shield— which  was  to  indicate  that  the 
moment  for  attack  had  come.  The  Peloponnesian 
tieefc,  which  had  been  kept  ready  for  action,  moved 
out  of  the  harbour  of  Lampsacus,  crossed  the  Hellespont 
at  full  speed,  and  fell  upon  their  defenceless  enemy. 
Some  of  the  ships  were  absolutely  empty,  others  had 
but  two  or  even  one  of  their  three  banks  of  rowers 
complete ;  their  missing  seamen  and  marines  were 
scattered  far  and  wide  over  the  country.  Of  the 
generals  only  one  was  on  the  alert.  This  was  Conon. 
He  signalled,  as  soon  as  he  saw  the  enemy's  fleet 
in  motion,  that  all  hands  were  to  return  to  their 
ships.  It  was  all  that  he  could  do,  but  it  was  too 
late.  In  his  own  ship  and  in  eight  others  he  had 
contrived  to  keep  up  discipline.  These  were  ready 
for  action ;  so  was  the  Paralus,  one  of  the  two  sacred 
vessels  which  were  kept  for  special  services.  It  was 
hopeless,  of  course,  to  attempt  resistance  with  so 
small  a  force.  The  Paralus  was  despatched  to  Athens 
with  the  news.  With  the  remaining  eight,  Conon 
made  the  best  of  his  way  to  Salamis  in  Cyprus,  where 
he  could  count  on  a  welcome  from  Evagoras,  a  prince 
whose  friendly  feeling  to  Athens  had  been,  a  few 
years  before,  acknowledged  by  the  gift  of  citizenship. 


254  THE   EYE   OP   GREECE. 

Before  starting  he  secured  his  retreat  by  an  act  of 
great  promptitude  and  courage,  sailing  across  the 
strait  to  where  the  stores  of  the  Peloponnesian  fleet 
were  kept,  and  seizing  the  great  sails  of  the  ships.  * 
Of  the  other  Athenian  ships  not  one  escaped.  A  few 
of  the  crews  escaped  to  fortresses  in  the  neighbour- 
hood ;  the  rest  were  taken  prisoners.  This  overwhelm- 
ing success  was  secured  without  the  loss  of  a  single 
man  to  the  victorious  armament. 

The  fate  of  the  prisoners  was  left  by  Lysander 
to  the  decision  of  the  allies.  This  was,  that  all  the 
Athenian  prisoners  with  the  exception  of  one  of  the 
generals,  Adeimantus  by  name,  should  be  put  to  death. 
It  was  a  merciless  act,  but  the  sufferers  were  only 
receiving  the  same  measure  which  they  had  dealt 
out  to  others.  Only  a  few  months  before,  the  Assembly 
had  decreed  that  every  prisoner  of  war  should  have 
his  right  hand  cut  off.  And  the  massacre  of  the  crews 
of  two  Peloponnesian  vessels,  one  from  Corinth,  the 
other  from  Andres,  was  fresh  in  ther  emembrance  of 
the  conquerors.  This  had  been  personally  ordered 
by  Philocles,  one  of  the  captive  generals,  and  Lysander 
asked  him  what  the  man  who  had  done  such  deeds 
deserved  to  suffer.  "It  is  idle,"  replied  the  prisoner, 
with  unbroken  courage,  *  to  bring  charges  for  which 
you  can  find  no  proof ;  you  are  conqueror ;  do  what 

*  These  were  landed  before  action,  whenever  it  was  prac 
ticable  to  do  so.  ' 


THE    EYE    OF   OREEC«.  255 

you  certainly  would  have  had  to  suffer  if  you  had 
been  conquered."  And  he  went  to  his  death  with 
unfaltering  step,  arrayed  in  his  gayest  apparel. 

The  Paralus  reached  Athens  at  night,  probably  on 
t'le  fourth  or  fifth  day  after  the  disaster,  the  distance 
between  the  scene  of  action  and  Athens  being 
something  less  than  three  hundred  miles.  Xenophon, 
probably  an  eye-witness  of  the  scene,  thus  describes 
it:  When  the  Paralus  reached  the  city  with  the 
evil  tidings,  "  a  bitter  wail  of  woe  broke  forth. 
From  Piraeus,  following  the  line  of  the  Long  Walls, 
up  to  the  heart  of  the  city  it  swept  and  swelled, 
as  each  man  to  his  neighbour  passed  on  the  news. 
On  that  night  no  man  slept.  There  were  mourning 
and  sorrow  for  those  that  were  lost,  but  the  lamen- 
tation for  the  dead  was  mingled  in  even  deeper 
sorrow  for  themselves,  as  they  pictured  the  evils 
which  they  were  about  to  suffer,  the  like  of  which 
they  had  themselves  inflicted  upon  others ;  *  and  he 
goes  on  to  give  a  dismal  catalogue  of  the  cities  which 
Athens  had  shamefully  ill-treated.  The  particulars 
were  so  well  known  to  his  readers  that  he  mentions 
only  the  names.     This  is  the  dismal  list. 

1.  The  town  of  Melos  in  the  island  of  the  same 
name  was  captured  in  416.  All  the  adult  males  had 
been  put  to  death  and  the  women  and  children  sold 
into  slavery.  This  cruelty  was  the  more  atrocious, 
because  the  Athenians  had  not  even  the  poor  excuse 


256  THE    EYE   OF   GREECE. 

that  Melos  had  revolted.  The  island  had  never  joined 
the  Delian  confederacy.  It  was  a  Dorian  colony,  and 
had  remained  faithful  to  its  mother  city,  Sparta. 

2.  HistiaBa,  one  of  the  Euboean  towns,  had  revolted 
along  with  the  rest  of  the  island,  against  Athenian 
rule  in  445.  When  this  was  restored,  the  inhabitants 
were  expelled  and  their  land  divided  among  Athenian 
settlers. 

3.  Scione,  a  town  in  Thrace,  had  been  treated  in 
the  same  way  as  Melos,  the  adult  males  slain,  the 
women  and  children  sold  into  slavery.  The  Athenians 
were  enraged  by  the  fact  that  the  town  had  revolted 
from  them  to  the  Spartans,  two  days  after  the  con- 
clusion of  a  truce,  and  that  the  Spartans  had  refused 
.to  give  it  back. 

4.  Torone  was  another  town  in  Thrace  and  had 
revolted  with  its  neighbour  Scione.  In  this  case 
there  was  no  special  aggravation,  and  the  Athenians 
contented  themselves  with  selling  the  women  and 
children,  and  taking  the  men  as  prisoners  to  Athens, 
where  they  were  afterwards  exchanged. 

5.  The  inhabitants  of  ^gina  were  expelled  from 
their  country  in  431  at  the  beginning  of  the  Pelo- 
ponnesian  war.  They  were  old  ener/iies  and  rivals  of 
Athens,  but  had  given  no  fresh  offence.  They  were 
removed  because  they  were  dangerously  near  to  the 
great  harbour  of  Athens,  the  Piraeus — "the  eye-sore 
of  the  Piraeus, "  Pericles  was  wont  to  call  ^Egina.     *  And 


THB  EYE  OF   GREECE.  257 

many  another  Greek  city,  *  adds  the  historian,  quite 
truthfully,  no  doubt,  but  with  a  bitterness  heightened 
by  the  recollection  of  his  own  wrongs,  for  Athens 
had  banished  him.  We  cannot  wonder  that  a  city 
with  such  a  past  behind  her  should  look  forward  with 
dread  to  the  future.  Fugitives  from  all  the  depen- 
dencies now  came  flocking  in.  Before  many  days  were 
past,  scarcely  a  town  in  the  great  Athenian  confed- 
eracy remained.  Many  revolted;  others  were  taken. 
But  no  more  severities  were  exercised  on  the  prisoners 
so  taken.  They  were  not  even  detained.  Only  it 
was  strictly  enjoined  upon  them  to  return  at  once 
to  Athens.  If  taken  again  elsewhere  they  would  be 
put  to  death.  Lysander  reckoned  on  the  aid  of  famine 
in  reducing  the  city,  and  famine  would  operate  the 
more  speedily  the  more  crowded  the  population  within 
the  walls. 

The  city  was  closely  blockaded,  both  by  land,  where 
the  Spartan  king  Agis  occupied  the  fort  of  Decelea, 
and  by  sea,  which  was  held  by  Pausanias  with  a  fleet 
of  a  hundred  and  fifty  ships.  On  the  other  hand, 
the  Athenians  prepared  for  a  vigorous  defence,  blocking 
up  all  the  harbours  but  one,  and  manning  the  walls. 
On  the  other  hand,  a  large  additional  force  from  the 
Peloponnesus  came  to  reinforce  the  army,  which  the 
Spartan  king  Agis  had  kept  the  summer  through 
before  the  walls,  while  Lysander  with  a  fleet  of  a 
hundred  and  fifty  ships,  blockaded  the  harbour. 

17 


258  THE    EYE    OP   GREECE. 

The  resolution  of  the  besieged  soon  failed  under 
the  pressure  of  famine.  Envoys  were  sent  to  king 
Agis  with  proposals  to  form  an  alliance  with  Sparta, 
every  point  in  dispute  being  yielded,  except  that 
Athens  was  to  keep  its  fortifications  and  its  great 
harbour,  the  PirsBus.  Agis  declared,  that  he  had  no 
power  to  treat;  the  envoys  must  go  to  Sparta.  To 
Sparta,  accordingly,  they  went.  On  reaching  Laconian 
territory,  and  communicating  the  terms  which  they 
were  instructed  to  offer  to  the  Spartan  authorities, 
they  received  a  peremptory  order  to  depart.  If  they 
really  wanted  peace,  they  must  be  the  bearers  of 
more  satisfactory  terms.  With  this  answer  they 
returned  to  Athens.  A  small  minority  was  in  favour 
of  accepting  the  inevitable,  but  the  spirit  of  the 
people  was  not  yet  broken.  A  senator  who  proposed 
yielding  to  the  Lacedaemonian  terms,  was  thrown 
into  prison.  The  situation  was  critical.  Submission 
was  inevitable,  but  the  counsellor  who  might  recom- 
mend it,  would  run  a  great  risk  of  his  life.  Nothing 
remained  but  to  cajole  the  people  into  accepting  the 
inevitable.  A  patriotic  citizen  might  quite  properly 
have  undertaken  this  task;  the  man  who  actually 
undertook  and  carried  it  through,  cannot  be  credited 
with  honourable  motives.  That  he  was  keen  enough 
to  see  the  state  of  the  case  may  be  conceded;  this, 
indeed,  was  patent  to  every  reflecting  person.  But 
it   is   doing   him  no  injustice  to  say  that  personal 


THE    EYE   OP   GREECE.  259 

ambition  was  the  ruling  motive  of  his  conduct 
Theramenes  had  already  made  his  mark  as  a 
prominent  politician  on  the  oligarchical  side.  In  the 
affair  of  Arginusae  he  had  behaved  with  peculiar 
baseness.  Responsible  himself,  as  much  as  any  man, 
for  the  loss  of  the  shipwrecked  men — for  the  task  of 
picking  them  up  had  been  assigned  to  him,  among 
others — he  led  the  attack  on  the  generals.  So  strong 
was  the  feeling  against  him  that,  when  afterwards 
he  was  appointed  to  a  command,  the  fleet  refused 
to  accept  him.  He  now  saw  an  opportunity  of 
ingratiating  himself  with  the  state  which  would  soon, 
he  perceived,  have  the  disposal  of  political  power  at 
Athens.  Standing  forth  in  the  Assembly,  dispirited 
and  dismayed  as  it  was  by  the  failure  of  the  embassy, 
he  said :  "  Send  me  to  Lysander,  and  I  will  find  out 
why  the  Lacedaemonians  insist  upon  destroying  the 
walls;  whether  it  is  because  they  wish  to  enslave 
you,  or  because  they  simply  desire  a  guarantee  of  your 
good  faith."  He  was  sent  accordingly,  but  he  made 
no  attempt  to  fulfil  his  mission.  He  simply  lingered 
with  Lysander  and  the  blockading  fleet  for  three 
months,  waiting  till  the  pressure  of  famine  in  the 
city  should  become  so  intolerably  hard  that  the 
besieged  would  be  ready  to  accept  any  conditions. 
When  this  time  had,  as  he  thought,  arrived,  he 
returned  to  Athens  and  declared  that  Lysander  had 
detained  him,  and  now,  after  all  this  time  had  been 


260  THE    EYE    OP   GREECE. 

lost,   told   him    that  he  had  no  power  to  treat  and 
that  he  must  go  to  Sparta. 

The  treacherous  messenger  found  his  countrymen 
in  the  state  which  he  had  expected,  ready  to  submit 
to  anything.  They  chose  him  to  go  to  Sparta,  along 
with  nine  colleagues,  with  full  powers  to  treat.  The 
Spartan  government,  on  their  arrival,  called  an 
assembly  of  their  allies,  and  submitted  the  question 
to  them.  Two  at  least  of  the  powers  were  against 
granting  any  terms.  Nothing  but  the  absolute  destruction 
of  Athens  would  satisfy  them.  Many  other  states, 
Xenophon  tells  us,  showed  this  feeling  but  none 
expressed  it  so  decidedly.  The  Spartans  put  a  veto 
on  the  proposal.  Athens  had  done  great  service  to 
the  common  race  in  the  past.  They  would  not,  as 
one  of  them  expressed  it,  put  out  one  of  the  eyes 
of  Greece.  Little,  however,  beyond  bare  existence 
was  conceded.  The  walls  were  to  be  destroyed,  the 
Piraeus  harbour  blocked  up,  and  all  the  ships  of  war 
but  twelve  handed  over  to  the  conquerors.  Theramenes 
and  his  colleagues  returned,  and  shameful  as  were 
the  conditions  which  they  brought  back  with  them, 
were  received  with  enthusiasm.  Anything  seemed 
better  than  the  destruction  which  seemed  imminent 
and  which  they  felt  to  be  not  undeserved.  A  small 
minority  still  resisted,  but  this  cheap  exhibition  of 
independence,  not  intended,  as  we  may  be  sure,  to 
succeed,  was  overruled.     The  fleet  was  handed  over 


THE    EYE    OF    GREECE.  261 

to  the  Peloponnesians ;  the  walls  were  pulled  down 
to  the  sound  of  joyous  music.  And  the  day  by  a 
singular  coincidence,  was  the  anniversary  of  that  on 
which,  seventy-five  years  before,  Athens  had  saved 
Greece  in  the  Bay  of  Salamis.  It  is  possible  that 
there  may  have  been  old  men  who  remembered  the 
culmination  of  their  country's  glory,  and  now  they 
looked  upon  her  £alL 


CHAPTER  XX. 
THE  LI02rS  CUB. 

WHEN  in  the  Frogs  of  Aristophanes,  Bacchus, 
sorely  in  need  of  a  dramatic  poet  who  will  be 
able  to  produce  some  play  of  decent  merit  at  his 
festivals,  goes  down  to  the  Regions  of  the  Dead,  in 
search  of  what  he  wants.  Arrived  at  his  destination, 
he  finds  himself  called  upon  to  choose  between  ^Eschylus 
and  Euripides.  Among  other  tests  of  merit,  he  pro- 
poses to  the  candidates  for  his  favour,  that  they  should 
give  their  countrymen  such  good  advice  that  there 
should  be  once  again  a  prosperous  Athens,  exhibiting 
tragedies  in  the  style  in  which  they  should  be  exhib- 
ited. Thereupon  -^schylus  delivers  himself  of  the 
following  ; 

■Rear  not  a  lion's  cub  within  your  walls. 
But  having  reared  him,  let  him  work  his  wilL* 

We  may  be  sure  that  everyone  in  the  audience 
knew  what  was  meant— *-he  lion's  cub  was  Alcibiades, 
son  of  Cleinias. 


ARISTOPHANES. 
From  a  Bust  Found  near  Tusculum. 


TH£  lion's  cub.  263 

At  the  time  when  the  play  above  mentioned  was 
exhibited  (the  early  spring  of  405  B.C.)  AJcibiades 
was  for  the  second  time  in  exile.  His  career  was,  in 
fact,  practically  at  an  end,  but  it  is  possible  that  if 
the  advice  which  it  put  into  the  old  poet's  mouth 
had  been  followed,  the  fate  of  Athens  might  have 
been  averted  or,  at  least,  postponed.  It  is,  anyhow, 
certain  that  Alcibiades  had  never  failed  in  anything 
that  he  undertook.  An  utterly  selfish  politician,  he 
was  yet  a  man  of  conspicuous  abih'ty.  The  magnitude 
of  the  injury  which  he  did  to  his  country  when 
seeking  to  revenge  himself  for  his  first  banishment 
is  the  measure  of  his  remarkable  powers. 

He  was  connected  on  the  mother's  side  with  the 
noble  house  of  the  Alcmaeonidae,  the  great  Pericles 
being  his  near  kinsman,  and,  in  right  of  this  rela- 
tionship, one  of  his  guardians  during  his  minority. 
The  great  statesman  was  probably  too  much  occupied 
t6  take  much  thought  for  his  ward,  and  his  fellow- 
guardian,  his  brother  Ariphon,  was  a  man  of  little 
weight.  This,  doubtless,  was  one  of  the  many  adverse 
influences  which  told  against  the  young  Alcibiades, 
From  the  very  beginning  of  his  life  he  seems  to  have 
been  spoilt.  Left  at  the  age  of  two  without  a  father's 
care,  rich,  noble,  singularly  beautiful  in  person,  of  a 
haughty  and  ambitious  temper,  it  would  have  been 
almost  a  miracle  if  he  had  grown  up  to  be  a  self- 
controlled,    law-abiding  citizen.     Plutarch  tells   two 


264  THE  lion's  cub. 

characteristic  stories  of  his  boyhood.  Overpowered 
by  the  superior  strength  of  his  antagonist  in  a 
wrestling  match,  he  caught  his  opponent's  hand  in 
his  teeth.  *  What ! '  cried  the  lad,  "  do  you  bite  like  a 
woman,  Alcibiades?  "  *  No,"  he  answered,  *I  bite  like 
a  lion."  On  another  occasion  he  was  playing  dice  in 
the  street.  A  waggon  approached,  and  its  surly  driver 
refused  to  stop.  The  boy's  playfellows  dispersed, 
but  Alcibiades  threw  himself  at  full  length  before 
the  feet  of  the  horses.  *Run  over  me,  if  you  dare,* 
he  cried.  At  eighteen,  when  he  attained  his  majority, 
he  received  from  his  guardians  his  property,  largely 
increased,  probably,  during  a  minority  of  sixteen  years. 
This  must  have  been  very  shortly  before  the  death 
of  Pericles,  which,  happened  in  the  autumn  of  429. 
Possibly  it  is  to  this  time  that  we  are  to  refer  an 
anecdote,  which  if  it  is  true,  indicates  pretty  clearly 
the  way  in  which,  the  young  aristocrat  regarded 
Athenian  politics.  Calling  at  his  guardian's  house, 
and  being  refused  admittance  because  the  statesman 
was  busy  with  the  accounts  which  he  had  to  render 
to  the  people,  he  remarked :  "  It  would  be  far  better 
for  him  to  busy  himself  in  thinking  how  he  may  best 
avoid  rendering  them  at  all."  In  common  with  all 
young  Athenians,  he  served  in  the  army.  Here,  of 
course,  he  found  opportunities  for  the  display  and 
ostentation  which  were  part  of  his  character.  His 
shield  was  inlaid  with  gold  and  ivory,  and  carried 


t 


THE  lion's  cub.  265 

the  device  of  Zeus  hurling  a  thunderbolt,  borne,  it 
will  be  remembered,  by  Hyperbius,  one  of  the  Theban 
Champions  in  'Septem  contra  Thebas'  of  iEschylus. 
His  first  foreign  service  was  in  429  B.C.  before  Potidsea. 
Here  he  was  wounded  and  was  for  a  time  in  great 
danger,  but  was  saved  by  Socrates,  whose  favourite 
pupil  he  had  been.  The  philosopher  was  strongly 
attracted  by  the  grace  and  beauty  of  the  young  man, 
but  seems  not  to  have  spared  him  plain-spoken  rebukes 
A  strange  affection  grew  up  between  them.  The 
influence  of  the  elder  man  was  not,  we  may  believe, 
wholly  useless,  though  it  did  not  suffice  to  keep  back 
the  younger  from  a  career  of  extravagance  and  folly. 
On  the  other  hand,  we  have  reason  for  knowing  that 
the  philosopher's  unpopularity  was  much  increased 
by  the  misdoings  of  some  of  his  pupils.  Of  these 
Alcibiades  was  the  most  notorious.  The  special  service 
which  Socrates  performed  at  Potidasa  was  in  a  way 
repaid  at  the  disastrous  defeat  of  Delium  in  424. 
B.C.  At  this  battle  Alcibiades  was  serving  on  horse- 
back, and  helped  to  protect  the  retreat  of  his  master, 
who  was  on  foot. 

The  feelings  with  which  Alcibiades  was  regarded 
among  his  fellow-citizens  were,  we  may  be  sure,  of 
a  mixed  kind.  Some  of  his  exploits  must  have  ex- 
torted Sk  half  unwilling  admiration.  When,  probably 
in  the  year  of  the  battle  of  Delium,  he  ran  seven 
four-horsed    chariots  at  Olympia,  and  won  the  first, 


266  THE  lion's  cub. 

second,  and  fourth  prizes ;  when  it  was  seen  that  the 
ships  of  war  which  he  had  to  man  and  equip  were 
the  best  provided  in  the  fleet,  that  the  plays  which 
he  had  to  put  upon  the  stage  had  more  costly 
scenery  and  better  ^usic  than  any  other,  a  certain 
popularity  followed. 

But  the  favour  thus  won  is  of  a  very  uncertain 
and  evanescent  kind,  while  the  enmities  made  by  a 
haughty  and  insolent  demeanour  and  by  acts  of  wanton 
violence,  are  fierce  and  lasting.  His  conduct  to  his 
wife  Hipparete  must  have  alienated  from  him  the 
powerful  family  to  which  she  belonged.  Enraged  at 
her  husband's  numerous  infidelities,  she  left  his  home 
and  took  refuge  with  her  brother.  Alcihiades  affected 
unconcern,  *  If  my  wife  wants  a  divorce, "  he  said, 
"  she  must  deposit  her  memorial  with  the  magis- 
trate in  person."  Hipparete  proceeded  to  comply 
with  the  demand,  which  was  probably  legal.  As  she 
was  crossing  the  market-place  Alcihiades  seized  her 
and  carried  her  to  his  home,  where  she  remained  till 
her  death.  He  showed  similar  audacity  in  serving 
a  friend,  against  whom  an  action  had  been  brought. 
He  went  to  the  Temple  of  Demeter  where  the  State 
archives  were  kept,  asked  to  see  the  list  of  causes, 
and  wetting  his  finger,  simply  wiped  out  the  charge 
against  his  friend.  We  may  compare  it  to  burning 
a  writ. 

It  is  difficult  to  define  the  line  which  Alcihiades 


THE  lion's  cub.  267 

took  in  Athenian  politics,  for  we  can  see  that  it  was 
largely  influenced  by  personal  feelings.  It  is  pro- 
bable that  he  did  not  become  prominent  till  after  the 
death  of  Cleon.  The  most  powerful  personages  in 
Athens  after  this  event,  were  Hyperbolus,  who  claimed 
to  be  Cleon's  successor,  and  Kicias,  the  leader  of  the 
peace  party.  Hyperbolus  endeavoured  to  get  rid  of 
one  or  two  of  his  rivals  by  ostracism;  but  they 
combined  together  against  him,  and  succeeded  in 
turning  his  weapon  against  himself.  For  a  time  it 
seemed  that  Alcibiades  would  endeavour  to  oust 
Nicias  from  his  position  as  head  of  the  peace  party. 
Anyhow  he  did  his  best  to  procure  the  release 
of  the  Spartan  soldiers  taken  at  Sphacteria,  and  to 
make  himself  generally  a  persona  grata  at  Sparta.* 
But  the  Spartans  naturally  preferred  their  old  friends, 
and  when  the  Athenians  at  last  abated  their  exces- 
sive pretensions  and  consented  to  treat,  refused  the 
services  of  Alcibiades,  and  made  Nicias  and  Laches 
their  intermediaries.  The  brief  peace  that  followed 
was  known  as  the  Peace  of  Nicias. 

Alcibiades  now  threw  himself  unreservedly  into  the 
arms  of  the  war  party.  He  did  his  best  to  embroil 
his  country  with  Sparta,  and  succeeded  in  forming 
an    alliance    with    the    anti-Spartan   powers   in    the 

*  It  must  be  understood  that  friendship  with  Sparta  meant 
adhesion  to  the  peace  party  and  to  the  general  policy  of  the 
aristocratic  party. 


268  THE  lion's  cub. 

Peloponnese,  Argos,  Mantinea,  and  Elis.  His  schemes 
were  brought  to  nothing  by  the  disastrous  defeat 
which  the  allies  suffered  at  Mantinea  in  418.  Al- 
cibiades  appears  not  to  have  been  present  at  the  battle. 

The  share  that  he  took  in  promoting  the  ruinous 
expedition  against  Syracuse,  and  the  fate  by  which 
he  was  himself  overtaken  have  been  already  described. 
And  now  the  worst  nature  of  the  man,  the  innate 
ferocity  of  the  "  lion's  cub  "  came  out.  He  turned 
all  his  knowledge  of  the  Athenian  plans  and  all  his 
consummate  abilities  against  his  countrymen.  The 
Spartans,  always  slow  to  act,  were  carried  away  by 
his  energy.  By  his  advice  they  actively  took  up  the 
cause  of  the  Syracusans,  sent  one  of  their  ablest 
soldiers  to  help  them,  and  renewed  the  occupation 
of  Decelea  which  had  been  so  damaging  to  Athens 
in  the  earlier  part  of  the  war.  For  a  time  he  enjoyed 
a  great  popularity  among  his  hosts. 

Throwing  off  the  luxurious  habits  for  which 
he  had  been  notorious  in  Athens,  he  affected  a 
Spartan  simplicity,  frugality,  and  hardness  of  life. 
But  a  private  quarrel  with  one  of  the  kings,  a  quarrel 
in  which  the  offence  was  given  by  Alcibiades,  brought 
his  residence  at  Sparta  to  an  end.  He  fled  into 
Asia,  and  took  refuge  with  Tissaphernes,  one  of  the 
Persian  satraps.  His  personal  charm  was  as  effectual 
with  Tissaphernes  as  it  had  been  in  Athens  and 
Sparta.     A  series  of  tortuous  intrigues  followed.     A 


THE  lion's  cub.  269 

breach  between  Sparta  and  the  Satrap  was  effected, 
but  it  was  not  so  easy  to  get  any  positive  help  from 
him  for  Athens,  in  the  shape  either  of  men  or  of 
gold.  Still  Alcibiades  traded  on  the  influence  which 
he  was  reputed  to  have  over  the  Persian  rulers, 
endeavouring  to  obtain  the  repeal  of  the  decree  of 
banishment  passed  against  him  three  years  before. 
With  characteristic  want  of  principle  he  tried  both 
parties  in  turn.  First,  he  offered  to  bring  overTis- 
saphernes  as  the  price  of  his  own  recall  but  imposed, 
the  condition  that  the  democratic  government  of 
Athens  must  give  place  to  an  oligarchy.  The  con- 
dition was  accepted ;  the  democracy  for  a  time  ceased 
to  exist,  its  place  being  taken  by  the  oligarchy  of  the 
Four  Hundred.  But  these  new  rulers  did  not  trust 
their  ally ;  and  no  decree  of  recall  was  passed.  There- 
upon Alcibiades  reversed  his  policy.  (It  must  be 
remembered  that  the  man's  contemporaries  had  nothing 
like  the  complete  view  of  his  intrigues  which  history 
enables  us  to  obtain.)  The  news  of  the  political 
revolution  at  Athens  was  ill  received  by  the  fleet  at 
Samos — the  crews — *the  sea-faring  multitude"  as  the 
aristocratic  Aristophanes  contemptuously  calls  them — 
were  always  strongly  democratic.  They  constituted 
themselves  into  an  assembly,  they  chose  new  generals, 
and,  after  some  hesitation,  recalled  Alcibiades.  Thras- 
ybulus,  who  was  the  leading  spirit  in  the  fleet, 
crossed  over  from  Samos  to  the  mainland  and  brought 


270  THE   lion's   CtJB. 

him  back.  An  Assembly  was  held  to  receive  him; 
he  addressed  it  with  such  success  that  he  was  elected 
general.  There  was  a  strong  desire  in  the  fleet  to 
sail  to  Athens  and  restore  the  old  state  of  things  by- 
force.  Alcibiades  successfully  combated  it.  He  knew 
that  his  promises  to  bring  over  Tissaphernes  to  the 
side  of  Athens — for  he  had  repeated  to  the  fleet  what 
he  had  said  to  the  Four  Hundred — were  delusive, 
and  that  such  a  movement  as  was  proposed  would 
leave  all  that  Athens  possessed  in  the  ^gean  at  the 
mercy  of  her  enemy.  His  action  at  this  crisis  pro- 
bably postponed  the  fall  of  the  city.  Had  it  not 
been  for  this  what  happened  in  404  would  have 
happened  in  411. 

Alcibiades  did  not  return  to  Athens :  he  felt  him- 
self to  be  more  usefully  employed,  and  it  may  be 
added,  in  greater  safety,  with  the  fleet.  The  men 
followed  him  with  enthusiasm,  for  he  showed  con- 
summate ability.  His  greatest  achievement  was  the 
victory  of  Cyzicus,  at  which  the  entire  Lacedae- 
monian fleet  was  taken,  except  the  contingent  from 
Syracuse,  which  was  burnt  by  its  own  crews.* 

*  The  number  of  ships  is  variously  given  as  sixty  and  eighty. 
It  was  this  disaster  which  the  Spartan  Hippocrates  announced 
in  the  famous  dispatch,  the  very  model  of  laconic  writing, 
which  he  sent  on  the  death  of  his  superior  Mindarus,  to  the 
Government  at  home.  "  We  are  defeated.  Mindarus  is  dead. 
The  men  are  starving;  we  do  not  know  what  to  do." 


THE  lion's  cub.  271 

In  the  following  year  (409)  he  captured  Chalcedon, 
and  in  the  next  year  again  Byzantium.  His  opera- 
tions, in  fact,  were  attended  by  an  almost  uniform 
success,  and  he  received  an  unanimous  welcome  when 
in  May  407,  after  an  absence  of  eight  years,  he 
returned  to  Athens.  His  popularity  rose  to  its  height 
when,  about  four  months  afterwards,  he  escorted  the 
sacred  procession  that  annually  made  its  way  from 
Athens  to  Eleusis,  there  to  celebrate  the  Mysteries 
of  the  "  Mother  of  the  Gods. "  For  seven  years  the 
solemnity  had  been  intermitted.  The  Lacedaemonian 
garrison  at  Decelea,  established,  it  will  be  remembered 
at  the  suggestion  of  Alcibiades,  constituted  a  danger 
too  formidable  to  be  encountered,  and  the  celebrants 
had  been  transported  by  sea,  with  no  small  loss  to 
the  dignity  of  the  festival.  Alcibiades  now  raised 
the  whole  available  force  of  the  city,  and  took  and 
brought  back  the  procession  in  safety.  The  Spartan 
general  did  not  choose  to  hazard  an  attack,  and 
Alcibiades  enjoyed  all  the  honours  of  a  triumph. 

A  few  days  afterwards  he  left  the  city,  never  to 
return. 

We  may  be  sure  that  below  the  apparent  unani- 
mity with  which  his  return  had  been  welcomed,  there 
was  some  concealed  dissatisfaction.  Alcibiades  had 
made  too  many  enemies  for  this  not  to  be  the  case. 
Probably  he  added  to  their  number  during  his  brief 
stay   at   Athens,    for  he   had   tJie   temper  in  which 


272  THE  lion's  cub. 

success  and  popularity  infallibly  result  in  insolence. 
The  hostile  party  soon  found  occasion  for  censure. 
He  had  a  magnificent  armament  under  his  command, 
and  he  had  accomplished  nothing;  he  had  even  suf- 
fered defeat.  True,  this  defeat  happened  in  his 
absence,  and  was  brought  about  by  direct  disobedience 
to  his  orders,  Antiochus,  the  second  in  command, 
having  risked  the  engagement  which  he  had  been  ex- 
pressly directed  to  avoid.  But  Alcibiades  cannot  be 
wholly  acquitted  of  blame,  for  Antiochus  owed  his 
appointment  to  him,  and  had  been  put  by  him  over 
the  heads  of  abler  men.  *  The  change  of  feeling  at 
home  was  rapid.  Alcibiades  was  deprived  of  his 
command,  and  thought  it  more  prudent  not  to  return 
to  the  city.  He  left  the  fleet,  and  retired  to  a 
strongly-fortified  castle  which  he  possessed — Bisanthe, 
on  the  coast  of  Thrace. 

Little  more  remains  to  be  told.  He  made  an  effort 
to  save  the  fleet,  Athens'  last  hope,  which  the  reckless 
folly  of  the  admirals  was  exposing  to  the  attack  of 
the  Spartans  at  (Egos-Potami.  He  had  seen  the 
danger  from  his  Thracian  retreat,  and  warned  the 
officer  in  command.  They  bade  him  depart.  *  They, 
not  he, "  they  said,  *  were  responsible. "  A  few  days 
afterwards  his  warnings  were  justified.     Athens,  her 

*  Plutarch  tells  ns  that  Antiochus  owed  his  favour  to  having 
caught  a  tame  quail,  which  his  patron  had  allowed  to  escape 
while  addressing  the  public  Assembly. 


THE  lion's  cob.  273 

last  force  destroyed,  was  at  the  mercy  of  her  enemies. 
The  capture  of  the  city  in  404  was  followed  by  the 
establishment  of  an  oligarchy,  subservient  to  Spartan 
influences.  One  of  the  first  acts  of  the  new  govern- 
ment was  to  pass  a  decree  for  the  banishment  of 
Alcibiades  (his  exile  had  up  to  this  time  been 
voluntary).  No  greater  proof  could  have  been  given 
that,  in  spite  of  his  lack  of  principle,  he  was  a  citizen 
who  could  have  promoted  the  interests  of  Athens. 
The  Thirty  Tyrants — such  was  the  name  given  to 
the  leaders  of  the  new  Government— were  entirely 
under  Spartan  control,  and  to  be  condemned  by  them 
was  in  its  way  a  proof  of  patriotism.  Bisanthe,  now 
that  the  Athenian  power  had  disappeared,  was  no 
longer  a  safe  residence.  With  characteristic  courage 
and  self-reliance,  Alcibiades  determined  to  try  his 
fortune  with  the  Great  King  himself.  Another 
Athenian,  not  unlike  to  himself  in  character,  had 
tried  that  course  with  remarkable  success,  and  what 
had  been  achieved  by  Themistocles  might  be  done 
again.  Accordingly  he  left  Thrace,  and  made  his 
way  to  Pharnabazus,  who  would,  he  hoped,  give  him 
a  safe  conduct  for  his  journey  to  the  Persian  capital. 
Pharnabazus  received  him  with  every  appearance  of 
friendship ;  but  his  enemies  were  at  work.  The 
oligarchical  party  at  Athens  represented  to  Lysander 
that  banishment  was  not  enough,  the  new  order  of 
things   would  never  be  safe   as   long  as  Alcibiades 

18 


274  THE    LION*S    CUB. 

lived.  Lysander,  accordingly,  sent  a  messenger  to 
Pharnabazus  with  instructions  that  his  guest  must 
be  disposed  of,  and  the  Satrap,  who  no  longer  had 
two  rival  Greek  powers  to  play  oflF  against  each 
other,  had  no  alternative  but  to  comply.  The  house 
in  which  Alcibiades  was  sleeping  was  surrounded  at 
night  by  a  body  of  Persian  troops  and  set  on  fire. 
He  caught  up  in  his  left  hand  a  cloak  which  he 
wrapped  round  his  head,  and  a  dagger  in  his  right. 
The  sight  of  him  was  sufficient  to  send  his  assailants 
flying.  Not  a  man  ventured  to  come  to  close  quarters 
with  him.  Retreating  to  a  distance,  they  showered 
javelins  and  arrows  on  him.  He  was  about  forty- 
five  at  the  time  of  his  death.  According  to  another 
account  his  life  was  sacrificed,  not  to  political  jealousy 
but  to  private  revenge.  Neither  account  is  impror 
bable.  He  had  done  enough  to  make  himself  hated 
and  feared  by  the  enemies  of  Athens,  and  his  private 
life  was  such  as  to  rouse  against  him  the  most 
furious  resentments. 

A  review  of  his  career  makes  us  feel  that  the 
epigrammatic  summary  put  into  the  mouth  of  iEschy- 
lus  was  eminently  true.  It  would  have  been  better 
for  the  city  if  the  *  lion's  cub '  had  never  been 
reared  in  it;  and  yet  his  personal  leadership  was 
almost  invariably  successful.  His  countrymen  had 
many  reasons  not  to  like  him,  and  yet  they  did  not 
prosper  without  him. 


CHAPTER  XXL 

TEE  WISEST  OF  MEN. 

"  TTTHEN  we  were  at  PotidaBa, "  says  Alcibiades, 
T  T  singing  the  praises  of  Socrates  to  the  joyous 
company  which  he  found  at  the  house  of  the  poet 
Agathon,  *  if  we  were  short  of  food — not  an  uncommon 
thing  on  a  campaign — there  was  no  one  to  compare 
with  Socrates  for  the  way  he  bore  it,  while  at  a 
banquet,  if  he  was  compelled  to  drink,  which  he 
never  wanted  to  do,  he  outlasted  everyone  else;  no 
one  ever  saw  Socrates  tipsy.  As  to  the  way  in 
which  he  bore  cold — and  the  cold  is  terrible  in  that 
country—  here  is  an  example  of  what  he  did.  Once 
there  was  an  exceedingly  hard  frost;  no  one  went 
out,  or  if  he  did,  wrapped  himself  up  in  the  strangest 
fashion,  and  put  every  kind  of  covering  on  his  feet, 
but  Socrates  went  barefoot  through  the  ice,  with 
less  discomfort  than  others  felt  for  all  their  pre- 
cautions to  keep  themselves  warm.* 

This   is   followed  by  an   anecdote   which  reminds 
i7» 


276  THE   WISEST    OF   MEN. 

one  curiously  enough  of  the  raptures  of  some  mediaeval 
saints.  "  Some  idea  occurred  to  him  and  he  stood 
trying  to  think  it  out.  Failing  to  do  this  he  would 
not  give  it  up,  but  still  stood  thinking.  By  this  time 
it  was  noon,  and  the  men  began  to  notice  him. 
'See!'  said  one  to  another,  'Socrates  has  something 
in  his  head,  and  has  been  standing  thinking  it  out 
ever  since  the  morning.'  When  it  was  evening,  some 
men  from  Ionia,  having  had  their  meal,  took  out 
their  mattresses  to  sleep  in  the  cool — it  was  summer 
time — and  also  to  see  whether  he  would  stand  through 
the  night.  And  he  did  stand  till  morning.  Then  he 
saluted  the  sun,  and  went  his  way." 

Another  story  of  endurance  concludes  the  "  Dialogues 
of  the  Banquet "  from  which  these  anecdotes  are  taken. 
One  Aristodemus  tells  the  story.  "  I  was  overcome  with 
slumber  and  slept  a  long  time,  for  it  was  the  time 
of  the  year  when  the  nights  are  long.  At  daybreak, 
when  the  cocks  were  beginning  to  crow,  I  woke 
and  found  that  some  of  the  guests  were  asleep  and 
that  others  were  gone,  and  that  Aristophanes,  Agathon, 
and  Socrates,  who  alone  of  all  the  company  were 
awake,  were  drinking  out  of  a  great  cup  which  they 
passed  from  left  to  right.  Socrates  was  talking  to 
the  other  two;  but  what  he  said  I  do  not  remember, 
for  I  had  not  heard  the  beginning,  and  besides,  I 
was  somewhat  drowsy ;  but  the  chief  point  was  this : 
he  compelled  them  to  acknowledge  that  the  same  man 


THE    WISEST    OP   MEN.  277 

ought  to  write  both  tragedy  and  comedy  Then  they 
too — and  they  had  not  followed  him  very  clearly — 
began  to  nod,  and  first  Aristophanes  fell  asleep,  and 
then— when  it  was  now  broad  daylight— Agathon. 
Thereupon  Socrates  rose,  composed  them  to  sleep, 
and  went  away  to  the  Lyceum,  where  he  washed. 
The  rest  of  the  day  he  spent  as  usual,  and  went 
home  in  the  evening." 

The  power  of  enduring  heat  and  cold,  and  still 
more  the  possession  of  a  brain  which  defies  all 
influences  of  strong  drink,  may  not  seem  quite  as 
admirable  to  us  as  they  did  to  the  contemporaries  of 
Socrates.  But  he  had  other  qualities  which  we  may 
agree  with  them  in  respecting.  The  virtue  of  military 
courage  he  possessed  in  the  highest  degree.  In  a 
skirmish  before  Potidaea  he  saved  the  life  of  Alci- 
biades,  who  had  been  left  wounded  and  helpless  on 
the  field.  On  the  disastrous  day  of  Delium  he  was 
one  of  a  few  infantry  soldiers  who  preserved  so  firm 
an  attitude  during  all  the  dangers  of  a  retreat  that 
the  enemy  did  not  venture  to  molest  them. 

And  he  had  also  in  perfection,  the  rarer  gift  of 
political  courage.  How  he  bore  himself  in  the  As- 
sembly when  after  the  battle  of  Arginusae  the  generals 
were  illegally  condemned,  has  already  been  described.* 
Then  he  was  resisting  at  the  imminent  peril  of  his 
life,  an  infuriated  democracy.  When  Athens  fell, 
•  See  Chapter  XVIII. 


278  THE    WISEST    OF   MEN. 

and  the  democracy  was  overthrown,  he  offered  the 
same  resolute  resistance  to  an  unscrupulous  oligarchy. 
The  Thirty — this  was  the  name  of  the  governing 
body  which  the  victorious  Lysander  had  established 
in  Athens— sent  for  him  and  four  other  citizens  of 
repute,  and  commissioned  them  to  fetch  from  Salamis 
a  certain  Leon,  a  political  opponent  whom  they  had 
resolved  to  put  out  of  the  way.  Socrates  alone 
among  the  five,  refused  to  obey. 

A  less  tragical  story  may  be  told  in  the  words  in 
which  Xenophon,  a  disciple  of  the  philosopher,  relates  it. 

"The  Thirty  having  put  to  death  many  citizens, 
and  these  not  the  least  worthy,  and  having  turned 
many  to  evil  courses,  Socrates  said:  *It  seems  strange 
to  me  that  a  herdsman  should  make  the  cattle  that 
he  has  in  charge  fewer  in  number  and  of  worse 
condition,  and  yet  not  confess  that  he  is  a  bad 
herdsman;  and  it  seems  yet  stranger  that  one  who 
ruling  a  city  causes  the  citizens  to  be  fewer  and 
worse,  does  not  take  shame  to  himself  and  own  that 
he  is  a  bad  ruler.'  Now  Critias  and  Callicles  being 
among  the  Thirty,  both  hating  and  fearing  Socrates, 
had  caused  a  law  to  be  passed,  that  no  one  should 
teach  the  art  of  reasoning.  Therefore  they  sent  for 
Socrates,  and  showed  him  the  law,  and  commanded 
him  not  to  talk  with  young  men. 

'Socrates.  *May  I  ask  a  question  if  there  is  anything 
m  this  law  that  I  do  not  understand?' 


THE    WISEST    OF    MEN.  279 

•  Crifias.     *  Certainly.' 

*S.  'I  am  quite  ready  to  obey  the  law;  but  at 
I  don't  wish  to  transgress  through  ignorance,  I  should 
like  to  get  some  clear  information  on  one  point.  Do 
you  think  that  this  art  of  reasoning  is  on  the  side 
of  right  or  on  the  side  of  wrong  that  you  bid  me 
have  nothing  to  do  with  it  ?  If  it  is  on  the  side  of 
right,  then  it  is  clear  that  I  shall  have  to  keep  from 
speaking  right ;  if  it  is  on  the  side  of  wrong,  then 
surely  I  ought  to  try  to  speak  right?' 

'Callicles  (in  a  rage).  *As  you  are  so  ignorant, 
Socrates,  here  is  something  for  you  that  will  be  easier 
to  understand.  We  tell  you  that  you  are  not  to 
talk  to  young  men  at  all.' 

*/S>.  *To  avoid  all  doubt,  tell  me  exactly  up  to 
what  age  a  man  is  a  young  man ! ' 

'C.  *For  so  long  as  he  cannot  sit  on  the  Senate, 
as  not  having  come  to  years  of  discretion.  So  don't 
converse  with  any  man  under  thirty.' 

*S.  *If  a  man  under  thirty  has  something  to  sell, 
may  I  converse  with  him?' 

*C.  *0f  course  you  may  about  such  things.  But 
your  way,  Socrates,  is  to  ask  questions  about  things 
that  you  know  all  about.  Don't  ask  such  questions 
any  more.' 

*S.  *And  if  a  young  man  should  ask  me  where 
Callicles  is  or  where  Critias  is  to  be  found,  may  I 
speak  to  him?' 


280  THE   WISEST    OF   MEN. 

'C,    *Yes,  you  may.' 

*Critias.  *But  keep  away,  I  tell  you,  from  carpen- 
ters and  cobblers  and  smiths  and  such  people  ;  you 
must  have  talked  them  deaf  by  this  time,  I  take  it ! ' 

•<S.  *And  I  must  have  nothing  to  say,  I  suppose, 
about  matters  that  I  have  always  associated  with 
such  talks,  justice  and  piety  and  such  like  ! '  * 

'^Critias.  'Yes,  and  nothing  about  herdsmen,  or 
you'll  find  that  the  cattle  are  made  fewer  by  one  more.' 

•  It  is  clear  from  this, "  adds  the  writer,  "  that 
what  Socrates  had  said  about  the  herdsmen  had  been 
reported  to  them  and  had  caused  their  wrath." 

Socrates'  external  appearance  is  well  known  to 
us.  It  was  as  unlike  as  possible  to  the  Greek  ideal 
of  beauty.  His  face  was  of  the  coarsest  type,  with 
snub  nose  and  projecting  forehead,  resembling  a 
Silenus  far  more  than  an  Apollo.  So  far,  then,  we 
are  able  to  form  a  tolerably  clear  notion  of  the  man. 
He  was  a  sturdy,  courageous  person,  abstaining  as 
far  as  possible  from  political  life,  but  inflexibly  honest 
and  truthful  when  circumstances  compelled  him  to 
act.  t    Of  his  character  as  a  teacher  it  is  impossible 

*  It  was  the  eonstant  habit  of  Socrates  to  illustrate  his 
teaching  from  the  common  occupations  of  life. 

t  His  appearance  in  the  Assembly  after  the  battle  of  Ar- 
ginusae  in  the  character  of  one  of  the  presiding  officers,  was 
not  a  matter  of  choice  on  his  part.  The  tribes  took  it  in  turn 
to  fulfil  this  function,  and  the  presiding  officers  were  selected 
out  of  them  by  lot. 


THE   WISEST   OF   MEN.  281 

to  speak  within  any  limits  of  space  which  I  can 
command,  nor,  indeed,  is  the  subject  such  as  belongs 
to  the  scope  of  this  hpok.  Nevertheless,  a  few 
details  of  prominent  points  may  be  given.  Socrates 
was  the  son  of  a  sculptor,  and  seems  for  the  first 
half  of  his  life  (which  extended  to  nearly  seventy 
years)  to  have  followed  the  same  profession.  A  group 
of  the  Graces  was  shown  to  Pausanius  when  he 
visited  Athens  in  the  second  half  of  the  second 
century  A.D.,  as  the  work  of  the  philosopher.  At 
the  age  of  thirty-five  he  gave  up  this  occupation,  and 
thereafter  devoted  himself  to  teaching.  Unlike  his 
contemporaries,  such  men  as  Gorgias  of  Leontini, 
and  Protagoras,  he  did  not  give  his  instructions  in 
a  school  or  lecture-room,  he  did  not  pretend  to  have 
any  regular  following  of  disciples,  and  he  steadfastly 
refused  to  receive  any  payment  for  his  instruction. 
He  spent  his  whole  day  in  the  streets  and  .squares 
of  the  city,  talking  with  any  passers-by  who  might 
be  willing  to  answer  his  questions,  and  ready  to 
answer  any  questions  that  might  be  put  to  him. 

His  method  was  eminently  conversational.  He  did 
not  lecture;  he  talked.  With  a  playful  allusion  to 
the  profession  of  a  midwife  which  his  mother  had 
followed,  he  was  accustomed  to  say  that  he  helped 
to  bring  the  thoughts  and  beliefs  of  others  to  the 
birth.  The  subjects  of  his  discourse  were  of  an 
eminently    practical    kind.     In    the    speculations    of 


282  THE    WISEST    OF    MEN. 

physical  philosophy — speculations  which  before  his 
time  had  largely  occupied  the  thoughts  of  philoso- 
phers— he  took  little  intertst.  Questions  concerning 
conduct,  about  justice  and  injustice,  right  and  wrong, 
in  states  and  in  individuals,  were  the  chief  topics 
which  he  would  discuss.  His  method  may  be  best 
described  by  the  word  "cross-examination."  He 
questioned  his  hearers,  using  commonly  a  somewhat 
circuitous  route,  till  he  compelled  them  to  confess 
that  their  notions  were  confused  and  contradictory. 
His  great  maxim  was  *  Know  thyself."  He  stripped 
off,  or  rather  he  made  those  who  talked  with  him 
strip  off  for  themselves,  the  veils  of  self-deception 
which  so  commonly  hide  a  man's  real  self  from  him. 
This  was  the  meaning  of  his  favourite  doctrine,  that 
knowledge  is  in  closest  connection  with  virtue.  To 
exhort  to  virtue  seemed  to  him  useless,  unless  he  could 
make  a  man  look  at  himself  in  his  true  light,  get 
rid  of  all  false  notions,  all  self-deceptions.  We  may 
doubt,  indeed,  whether  a  man  will  necessarily  do  right 
because  he  has  knowledge  of  what  is  right,  and  of 
how  he  is  himself  affected  towards  right,  but  this 
need  not  prevent  us  from  acknowledging  the  sub- 
stantial soundness  of  the  Socratic  method. 

A  method  and  a  teaching  so  novel  attracted,  it  is 
needless  to  say,  much  attention.  Not  a  few  strangers 
came  to  Athens  with  the  one  purpose  of  making 
themselves  acquainted   with  it.     Among  the  citizens 


THE   WISEST    OF   MEN.  283 

there  was  probably  no  more  familiar  figure.  But  it 
does  not  follow  that  because  he  was  well  known  he 
was  popular:  even  in  his  pupil  Xenophon's  account 
of  his  extraordinary  hardihood,  we  have  a  hint  of 
something  like  jealousy  among  his  comrades.  His 
fellow-soldiers  thought  that  he  looked  5own  upon 
them.  Then  again,  though  he  was  not  a  political 
partisan,  his  inflexible  honesty  brought  him,  as  we 
have  already  seen,  into  collision  with  both  the  aris- 
tocratic and  the  democratic  factions.  It  is  a  fact, 
too,  that  prominent  persons  do  not  conciliate  favour 
by  standing  aloof  in  the  marked  way  that  was 
characteristic  of  Socrates,  from  politics.  A  strong 
partisan  at  least  acquires  the  favour  of  his  own  side;  a 
neutral  is  very  commonly  disliked  or  suspected  by  both. 

A  special  cause  of  unpopularity  may  be  found  in 
the  philosopher's  connection  with  unpopular  statesmen, 
notably  with  Alcibiades  and  Critias.  Both  had  been 
his  pupils.  The  latter,  especially  by  the  cruelty  and 
injustice  of  his  rule  while  he  was  the  leading  spirit  of 
the  Thirty,  had  made  himself  hated  as  an  Athenian  had 
never  been  hated  before.  Happily  for  himself  he 
fell  on  the  field  of  battle,  but  the  memory  of  his 
deeds  was  treasured  against  all  who  in  the  popular 
judgment  were  connected  with  him. 

It  was  also  notorious  to  all  who  were  in  the  habit 
of  listening  to  his  talk,  and  this  description  must 
have  included  pretty  nearly  every  citizen  of  Athens, 


284  THE   WISEST    OF   MEN. 

that  Socrates  was  in  the  habit  of  uttering  very 
undemocratic  sentiments.  He  was  no  believer  in  the 
inborn  capacity  of  the  multitude  for  good  government. 
It  was  his  conviction — and  his  convictions  he  never- 
hesitated  to  express  in  the  most  decided  way  — that 
a  man  mdst  learn  how  to  rule,  if  he  is  to  rule  well, 
just  as  he  must  learn  how  to  steer  a  ship,  if  he  is 
to  become  a  good  pilot,  and  to  make  shoes  if  he  is 
to  be  a  good  cobbler.     The  spectacle 

*0f  those  who  know  not  ruling  those  who  know 

To  their  own  harm" 

was  hateful  to  him.  It  is  true  that  he  might  have 
been  found,  if  questioned  himself,  to  believe  that 
a  rich  man  or  even  a  professional  politician  might 
be  as  ignorant  of  the  true  art  of  ruling  as  the 
most  ignorant  of  the  "Sailor  mob"*  which  so  often 
swayed  the  decisions  of  the  Athenian  Assembly ;  but 
this  belief  had  not  so  many  opportunities  of  making 
itself  evident.  The  application  of  the  Socratic  theory  of 
the  relation  between  knowledge  and  politics  was  obvious. 
Curiously  enough  at  the  same  time  the  philosopher 
was  incurring  the  suspicious  dislike  of  the  party  that 
was  most  opposed  to  democratic  rule.  Aristophanes 
represented  the  conservative  element  in  Athenian 
thought,  and  to  Aristophanes  Socrates  seemed  a 
dangerous    innovator   in    religion    and    morals.     The 

*  Nautikos   ochlos,    as   it   was  called  in  the  language  of  the 
day,    and  always  identified  with  the  extreme  democratic  party. 


I 


THE    WISEST    OP   MEN.  285 

comedy  of  the  *  Clouds,  *  in  which  the  poet  attacks 
the  philosopher  by  name,  brings  the  two  charges 
most  distinctly  against  him.  Socrates  is  represented 
as  telling ,  his  disciples  that  new  gods  rule  in  the 
place  of  the  old,  or  rather,  for  that  is  the  practical 
upshot  of  it  all,  that  there  are  no  gods  at  all,  and 
it  is  from  the  inspiration  of  his  teaching  that  per- 
sonified Injustice  prevails  in  argument  over  Justice, 
her  baffled  and  dispirited  rival.  The  *  Clouds, "  it  is 
true,  wa?  put  upon  the  stage  as  early  a«  the  year 
427  B.C.  and  Socrates  was  not  accused  till  399. 
Nevertheless,  the  calumny,  for  it  was  nothing  else, 
was  working  against  him,  and  was  not  the  least 
effective  of  the  causes  which  brought  about  his  con- 
demnation. Finally  there  must  have  been  a  consi- 
derable number  of  personal  enemies,  made  enemies 
by  the  relentless  cross-examination  to  which  this 
teacher  subjected  every  one  with  whom  he  came 
into  contact.  Every  self-convicted  impostor,  made 
to  confess  his  own  incapacity  and  ignorance,  to  the 
amusement  of  a  listening  crowd,  must  have  treasured 
up  angry  recollections  of  his  exposure  against  the 
teacher  who  had  exposed  the  vanity  of  his  pretensions. 
Mr.  Grote  also  thinks,  and,  it  must  be  owned, 
with  a  good  deal  of  reason,  that  Socrates  when 
brought  before  his  judges  did  not  wish  to  escape. 
He  was  an  old  man ;  his  means  of  living  were  pre- 
carious ;  his  mode  of  life  would  have  become  impos- 


liob  THE   WISEST    OF   MEN. 

sible  in  the  face  of  the  growing  infirmities  of  age. 
He  did,  indeed,  in  a  way  exert  himself  to  procure  an 
acquittal ;  that  he  would  have  welcomed,  but  rather, 
we  may  be  sure,  for  the  sake  of  his  judges  than  of 
himself.  He  used,  it  is  true,  no  persuasion,  and  he 
condescended  to  no  artifices,  but  he  stated  his  case 
fairly  and  in  such  a  way  as  must,  we  cannot  but 
think,  have  carried  conviction  to  the  mind  of  an 
unprejudiced  hearer.  But  when  the  adverse  verdict 
was  pronounced,  and  it  was  pronounced  by  a  major- 
ity of  six  votes  only,  *  he  may  be  said  to  have 
deliberately  set  himself  to  bring  down  upon  himself 
the  severest  possible  sentence. 

*  The  words  of  Diogenes  Laertius  taken  literally  (he  was 
condemned  by  two  hundred  and  eighty-one  votes  more  than  the 
votes  for  acquittal)  would  mean  that  there  was  a  majority  of  two 
hundred  and  eighty-one  against  him.  But  Plato,  in  the  "Apology  of 
Socrates"  (the  defence  which  he  puts  into  the  mouth  of  his  teacher 
on  the  occasion  of  his  trial),  says  that  the  majority  was  not  greater 
than  five  or  six,  so  that  if  three  judges  had  voted  otherwise  than 
they  did,  an  acquittal  would  have  been  the  result.  It  seems  better 
therefore  to  conclude  that  the  adverse  majority  was  two  hundred 
and  eighty-one  and  the  favourable  minority  two  hundred  and 
seventy-six.  The  total  number  of  five  hundred  and  fifty-seven, 
allowing  for  some,  who  would  very  probably  be  neutral,  putting  in 
votes  marked  neither  for  acquittal  nor  for  condemnation,  is  very 
probable.  The  normal  number  of  a  court  was  five  hundred  but 
this  was  never  present,  some  of  the  members  being  absent  from 
various  causes,  and  some  places  being  commonly  vacant.  On 
important  occasions  two  courts  sometimes  sat  together. 


THE   WISEST   OP   MEN.  287 

It  was  the  somewhat  strange  practice  of  an  Athenian 
court,  when  the  verdict  of  "  guilty  *  had  been  pro- 
nounced, to  require  the  prosecutor  to  assess  the 
penalty  which  he  considered  would  meet  the  case. 
The  condemned  was  required  to  do  the  same.  In 
the  case  of  Socrates  the  prosecutor  demanded  the 
penalty  of  death;  the  prisoner,  had  he  been  anxious 
to  escape  this  fate,  would  have  mentioned  something 
that  would  have  satisfied,  not  indeed  his  irreconcilable 
enemies,  but  those  who  had  voted  without  any  very 
strong  motive.  Banishment,  imprisonment,  even  a 
heavy  fine,  would  have  sufficed.  Socrates  did  nothing 
of  the  kind.  He  began  by  saying  that  if  he  had  got 
his  proper  deserts  the  people  would  have  voted  him 
a  public  maintenance  in  what  we  may  call  Govern- 
ment House.  *  He  went  on  to  say  that  he  had  no 
money,  and  that  therefore  it  was  useless  for  him  to 
propose  a  fine.  Nevertheless,  as  his  friends  were 
urgent  with  him  to  propose  something,  and  were 
willing  to  find  the  money,  he  would  name  the  sum 
of  five  minas  or  about  .iE20  of  our  money.  This 
was  a  calculated  affront  to  the  court,  and,  as  there 
was  no  alternative  choice  other  than  the  penalties 
named,  necessarily  resulted  in  a  sentence  of  death. 

•  The  Prytaneum,  or  Town  Hall,  in  which  the  oflBces  of 
Government  were  situated,  and  in  which  henefactors  to  the 
city,  distinguished  generals,  and  others  who  had  done  good 
service  were  maintained  at  the  public  expense. 


CHAPTER  XXn. 

TEE  WILLING  PRISONES. 

^PHE  trial  of  Socrates  took  place  early  in  May. 
1  It  would  have  been  followed  almost  immediately 
by  his  execution  but  for  a  happy  ordering  of  events,  to 
which  we  owe  what  may  well  be  called  the  most 
significant  and  beautiful  of  his  utterances.  On  the 
day  before  that  of  his  condemnation,  the  priest  of 
Apollo  had  put  the  sacred  garland  on  the  stern  of 
the  ship  which  was  to  sail  to  Delos,  carrying  the 
embassy  which  Athens  sent  year  by  year  to  take 
part  in  the  festival  of  the  Delian  Apollo.  In  the 
interval  between  the  departure  and  the  return  of  this 
vessel',  commonly  a  period  of  thirty  days,  no  con- 
demned person  could  be  put  to  death.  The  time  was 
spent  by  the  philosopher  in  converse  with  his  friends, 
who  seem  to  have  been  permitted  to  have  free  access 
to  his  cell.  Two  of  these  conversations  have  been 
recorded  by  Plato.  It  is  impossible  to  say  how  far 
we   have   the  actual   words   of  Socrates.     It  is  pro- 


I 


SOCRATES. 
From  a  Bust  in  the  Villa  Albani  (near  Naples). 


THE   WILLING    PRISONER.  289 

bable  that  the  arguments  have  received  considerable 
accessions  from  the  mind  of  the  reporter,  but  that 
the  narrative  is  a  fairly  exact  representation  of  the 
truth. 

The  Dialogue  to  which  the  name  of  Crito  has 
been  given,  took  place  in  the  prison  before  the  return 
of  the  Sacred  Ship.  Crito  was  one  of  the  wealthiest 
men  in  Athens.  He  had  been  accustomed  to  con- 
tribute liberally  to  the  master's  support;  he  was 
among  tlie  friends  who  volunteered  to  find  the  money 
for  the  fine  which  Socrates  proposed  as  the  alternative 
punishment  to  death;  and  he  had  now  been  using 
his  money  to  smooth  the  way  for  the  prisoner's 
escape.  The  conversation  was  something  to  this 
effect. 

Socrates,  *  Why  so  early,  Crito?  It  is  not  morn- 
ing yet?  " 

Onto.     "  No,  it  isn't.* 

S,     "What  is  the  time  then?* 

C     "Just  before  dawn." 

S.     ■  I  am   surprised  that  the  jailor  let  you  in. " 

C.  •  He  knows  me  well,  because  I  have  been 
here  so  often  to  see  you,  and  he  has  had  something 
from  me  too." 

S,     "  Have  you  been  here  a  long  time?  * 

C.     *  Fairly  long." 

S.     *  Why  did  you  not  wake  me  then?* 

C.     •  Well,    S')crates,    to   tell   the   truth,  I  should 

19 


290  THE    WILLING    PRISONEB. 

not  have  cared  to  be  awake  in  such  a  plight  as  this. 
I  was  astonished  to  see  how  quietly  you  were  sleep- 
ing, and  it  was  on  purpose  that  I  forbore  to  wake 
you,  for  I  want  your  time  to  go  as  pleasantly  as  it 
may.  Often  before  have  I  admired  the  easy  way  in 
which  you  took  things,  but  never  so  much  as  I  do 
at  present,  so  easily,  so  gently  do  you  take  your 
trouble." 

S.  "  Surely,  Crito,  it  would  be  absurd  for  a  man 
at  my  age  to  make  any  trouble  about  dying." 

C,  "Well,  Socrates,  others  just  as  old  as  you, 
for  all  their  age,  are  greatly  troubled  when  they  find 
themselves  in  such  a  plight  as  yours.* 

S,    "  May  be.    But  what  made  you  come  so  early  ? ' 

C.  *I  have  brought  some  news,  not  bad  news 
for  you,  Socrates,  I  can  easily  understand,  but  to 
me   and   to  your  other  friends  as  bad  as  could  be." 

S.  *  What  do  you  mean  ?  Has  the  ship  come 
from  Del  OS?" 

C,  *It  has  not  actually  come,  but  it  will  come 
to-day.  So  I  understand  from  some  people  who  have 
come  from  Sunium  *  and  left  it  there.  Their  news 
means  that  it  will  come  to-day,  and  that  to-morrow 
will  be  the  last  day  of  your  life." 

8,     •  Let  us  hope  it  is  all  for  the  best.    God  must 

•  Snnium,  now  Cape  Colonna  (ho  called  from  the  ruins  of  the 
Temple  of  Athen6  which  once  crowned  the  promontory)  was 
ahout  thirty  miles  S.E.  of  Athena. 


THE   WILLING    PRISONER.  291 

order  it  as  He  thinks  fit:  still  I  do  not  think  that 
the  ship  will  come  to-day." 

C.     *  What  makes  you  think  so?  * 

8.  'I  will  tell  you;  you  say  I  must  die  the  day 
after  it  returns.' 

C.     'So  I  am  told  by  the  authorities." 

8,  •  Then  I  think  that  it  won't  come  the  day  that 
is  now  dawning,  but  on  the  day  after.  My  reason 
is  a  certain  dream  that  I  have  had  to-night,  and  just 
a  little  while  ago.  It  seems  very  likely  that  you 
did  quite  right  not  to  wake  me.* 

C.     "What  was  the  dream?" 

8,  *I  saw  in  my  sleep  a  fair  woman  dressed  in 
white  apparel,  coming  up  to  me.  She  called  me  by 
my  name  and  said,  '0  Socrates,  on  the  third  day 
hence  thou  shalt  win  unto  deep-foamed  Phthias' 
strand.'"  * 

C.     "  What  an  absurd  dream,  Socrates !  " 

8.     *But  quite  plain,  I  think." 

C.  'Very  plain  indeed.  But,  my  dear  Socrates, 
do  listen  to  me  and  consent  to  save  your  life." 

Crito  then  proceeds  to  urge  various  arguments 
upon  the  philosopher.  People  will  think  very  badly 
of  him    and   his    friends   if   they    don't    save    their 

*  The  words  are  taken  from  the  speech  of  Achilles  to  the 
envoys  of  Agamemnon  (Iliad  IX.),  but  are  altered  from  the 
first  person  to  the  second.  Achilles  tbreatens  to  leave  the 
host,  and  says  that  it  wiU  take  him  but  two  days  to  get  home. 


292  THE   WILLING    PRISONER. 

master's  life,  seeing  that  this  could  be  done  at  no 
very  great  expenditure  of  money,  by  bribing  jailors 
and  such  people.  Of  course  they  would  be  running 
a  certain  risk  in  doing  so ;  but  this  they  were  prepared 
for;  it  was  only*  their  duty  to  encounter  it,  and, 
after  all  it  would  be  no  great  matter  to  buy  the 
silence  of  the  informers,  as  they  had  bought  the 
connivance  of  the  prison  officials.  Besides,  there  were 
foreigners,  Simmias  for  instance,  who  was  a  Theban, 
quite  ready  to  undertake  this  part  of  the  business, 
and  these  would  not  be  exposed  to  any  of  the  danger 
that  an  Athenian  citizen  would  incur.  As  for  Socrates 
himself,  he  would  be  doing  wrong  if  he  neglected 
the  opportunity  of  saving  his  life.  He  was  doing 
just  what  his  enemies  wished.  Then  he  must  consider 
his  children.  Was  he  right  in  leaving  them  desolate? 
A  father  owed  a  duty  to  those  who  owed  their  life 
to  him.  And  he  must  decide  at  once.  He  must 
escape  that  very  night.  If  he  did  not,  it  would  be 
too  late. 

Socrates  is  ready  with  his  answer  to  these  argu- 
ments, and  the  sum  of  it  was  this:  Is  it  right  or 
is  it  wrong  for  me  to  make  my  escape  if  I  can? 
By  a  bold  image  he  personifies  the  laws  of  his 
country,  and  imagines  them  as  addressing  him. 
*What  are  you  thinking  of  doing,  Socrates?"  they 
are  supposed  to  say  to  him.  "  What  complaint  have 
you   against   us,    that   you    go  about  to  destroy  us, 


THE    WILLING    PRISONEB.  293 

for  the  man  who  ventures  on  the  strength  of  his 
own  private  opinion  to  upset  a  solemn  decision  of 
the  courts,  is  destroying  the  laws  by  which  the  state 
subsists  ?  You  owe  to  us  your  existence,  your  father, 
your  mother;  have  you  any  fault  to  find  with  the 
marriage  laws  which  brought  them  together  ? ' 
He  could  but  answer,  "  No. "  "  Have  you  any, "  they 
continued,  "  with  the  laws  about  the  rearing  and  educa- 
tion of  children,  to  which  you  owe  your  teaching  in 
liberal  arts,  and  your  bodily  training?'  These,  too, 
he  could  but  acknowledge  to  be  good.  "  Then  again, 
a  child  must  not  return  evil  for  evil  to  father  or 
mother,  if  he  is  struck  he  must  not  strike  back, 
but  must  put  up  with  what  he  has  to  endure.  Now 
your  country  is  infinitely  more  worthy  of  rev- 
erence than  your  parents.  How  much  more,  then,  you 
must  yield  to  her  if  she  is  angry  with  you, 
failing  to  persuade  her,  you  must  yield  to  her,  do 
what  she  bids  you,  and  suffer  what  she  puts  upon 
you ;  if  she  bids  you  go  to  battle,  you  must  obey,  and 
suffer  wounds  and  even  death,  sooner  than  leave 
your  place  in  the  ranks.  And  the  court  of  justice 
must  be  as  the  battle-field  to  you.  You  must  submit 
to  what  your  countiy  puts  upon  you."  This  it  must 
be  allowed,  is  a  very  cogent  argument;  and  we 
cannot  doubt,  so  thoroughly  is  it  in  accord  with  his 
usual  teaching,  that  Socrates  was  perfectly  sincere 
in  using  it.     But  it  is  no  less  clear  that  the  deter- 


294  THE    WILLING    PRISONER. 

mination  to  remain  and  submit  to  his  sentence  was, 
we  may  even  say,  as  much  a  matter  of  inclination 
as  of  duty.  The  safe  and  comfortable  home  which 
Crito  offered  him  in  Thessaly,  did  not  attract  him. 
If  he  did  not  live  in  Athens  he  would  not  live  any- 
where. This  is  brought  out  very  clearly  in  what  the 
Laws  are  represented  as  saying  by  way  of  enforcing 
their  argument. 

•And  you,  Socrates,  would  be  more  to  blame, 
if  you  were  to  do  what  we  are  thinking  of  than  any 
other  Athenian  would  be.  For  we  have  abundant 
proofs  that  we  and  this  city  of  ours  have  always 
been  very  much  to  your  mind.  Surely  you  would 
not  have  tarried  in  Athens  so  much  more  than  any- 
one else,  if  you  had  not  taken  more  pleasure  than 
anyone  else  in  it.  You  never  left  the  city  for  any 
festival  or  games  except  it  was  once  to  the  festival 
of  the  Isthmus;  you  never  went  any  whither,  except 
it  might  be  on  military  service;  for  no  other  kind 
of  cause  were  you  ever  absent,  such  as  takes  most 
men  abroad;  you  never  had  a  desire  to  see  any 
other  city  than  this,  or  make  acquaintance  with  any 
other  laws.  We  and  our  city  were  always  sufficient 
for  you.  Remember,  too,  that  at  your  trial  you  might, 
if  you  had  so  wished,  have  proposed  the  penalty  of 
banishment.  What  you  now  think  of  doing  against  the 
will  of  your  country,  you  might  then  have  done  with 
her  consent.     But  you  made  fine  professions  then  that 


THE    WILLING    PRISONER.  295 

you  did  not  refuse  to  die,  if  so  it  must  be,  and  that 

you  preferred  death  to  banishment.  Of  these  profes- 
sions you  are  not  now  ashamed,  you  take  no  account 
of  us,  but  you  want  to  do  what  the  most  worthless 
slave  might  do,  you  want  to  run  away." 

All  this  no  doubt  expresses  the  very  inmost  heart 
of  Socrates.  It  was  not  only  the  dishonour  of  a  life 
purchased  at  the  cost  of  all  his  professions  and  prin- 
ciples that  he  refused  to  submit  to,  it  was  also  the 
intolerable  ennui  of  an  existence  that  was  to  be 
passed  anywhere  but  in  the  intellectual  atmosphere 
of  Athens.  Mr.  Grote  thinks,  as  has  been  said,  that 
no  other  city  would  have  endured  him  so  long;  we 
may  perhaps,  add  the  converse,  and  say  that  he  could 
have  endured  no  other. 


CHAPTER  XXm 

TEE  CUP  OF  HEMLOCK. 

Fa  play  now  almost  forgotten,  the  ■Cato*  of 
Joseph  Addison,  the  hero,  who  has  been  fortifying 
himself  in  his  purpose  of  suicide  by  a  perusal  of 
Plato's  dialogue  of  Phaedo,  begins  his  great  soliloquy 
with  the  words: 

•It  must  be  so;  Plato,  thou  reasonest  well  I* 

It  is  quite  possible,  however,  that  a  modem  reader 
of  the  Phaedo  may  be  disappointed  in  this  same 
reasoning.  The  arguments  in  favour  of  the  Immor- 
tality of  the  Soul  are  scarcely  convincing;  some  of 
the  objections  are  but  imperfectly  answered.  Never- 
theless, it  is  easy  to  understand  why  the  Dialogue  has 
held  its  place  as  the  greatest  of  all  pre-Christian 
statements  of  the  doctrine.  But  this  greatness  lies, 
not  so  much  in  the  reasoning  of  the  abstract  question 
as  in  the  pictures  which  it  draws,  with  an  unsurpassed 


I 


PLATO. 

From  a  Hronze  Rust  at  Naples. 


THE    CUP    OF    HEMLOCK.  297 

literary  force,  of  the  practical  faith  of  the  philosopher 
as  he  stood  face  to  face  with  death.  It  is  a  picture 
manifestly  drawn  from  the  life,  and  the  cheerful, 
unfaltering  confidence  which  it  portrays,  is  far  more 
convincing  than  any  argument,  even  when  this  is 
reinforced  by  the  dialectical  subtlety  of  the  reporter. 
Phaedo,  the  disciple  from  whom  the  Dialogue  takes 
its  name,  describes  his  feelings  thus :  "  As  for  myself,  * 
he  says  to  his  friend  Epicrates,  who  had  been  asking 
for  details  of  the  last  scene,  "I  was  affected  by  what 
I  saw  and  heard  in  a  quite  surprising  way.  I  could 
not  feel  the  compassion  that  might  seem  natural  to 
one  who  was  present  at  the  death  of  a  dear  friend. 
The  man  seemed  absolutely  happy,  to  judge  from 
his  manner  and  his  talk,  so  fearless,  so  noble  was 
his  bearing  in  the  face  of  death.  I  saw  in  him  one 
who,  if  ever  a  man  did  so,  was  passing  into  the  other 
world  under  divine  protection  and  once  arrived  would 
assuredly  be  happy.  The  result  was  this.  There 
was  no  question  of  compassion,  as  there  might  have 
been  in  the  presence  of  so  great  a  sorrow;  on  the 
other  hand,  we  could  not  feel  our  wonted  pleasure 
in  our  philosopher's  talk ;  for,  indeed,  our  talk  was 
})hilosophical.  Our  condition  was  the  strangest  pos- 
sible. There  was  a  most  unusual  mixture  of  pleasure 
on  the  one  hand,  and  pain  on  the  other,  pain  because 
we  knew  that  he  was  soon  to  die.  We  were  laughin^^ 
at   one   time   and  weeping  at  another ;  no  one  more 


298  THE   CUP   OF   HEMLOCJK. 

SO  than  Apollodorus.*    You  know  the  man  and  his  ways.  ■ 
After    enumerating    the    disciples    who    had   been 
present  at  the  last  scene,  Phaedo  goes  on  to  describe 
what  had  been  done,  and  said: 

"  We  came  that  day  earlier  than  usual,  for  on  the 
day  before  we  had  heard  on  leaving  the  prison,  that 
the  ship  from  Delos  had  arrived.  Accordingly,  we 
agreed  among  ourselves  to  come  as  early  as  possible. 
The  porter  who  was  accustomed  to  open  the  door, 
told  us  to  wait  a  while,  and  not  go  in  till  he  bade 
us.  'The  Eleven,'  he  said,  'are  taking  the  chains 
ofif  Socrates,  and  notifying  to  him  that  he  is  to  die 
to-day.'  Before  long  the  man  came  out  to  us  again 
and  bade  us  follow  him.  Going  into  the  chamber, 
we  found  Socrates  just  quit  of  his  chains,  and 
Xanthippe,  with  his  little  child  in  her  arms,  sitting 
by  him.  As  soon  as  she  saw  us,  she  cried  out, 
saying  the  sort  of  things  that  women  do  say,  as,  for 
instance,  *0  Socrates,  this  is  the  last  time  that  your 
friends  will  speak  to  you,  or  you  to  them.'  Socrates 
looked  at  Crito,  and  said,  'Crito,  let  someone  take 
this  poor  woman  home.'  Thereupon  some  of  Crito's 
attendants  led  her  away  wailing  and  beating  her  breast. " 
After  this  the  philosopher  discussed  various  topics, 
as  the  close  union  of  pleasure  and  pain,  suggested 
by   the    sensation    of  relief   when   his  fetters  were 

*  He    was   an    emotional,  excitable  person,  not  possessed  of 
any    g""eat    mental  power,  but  profoundly  attached  to  Socratea 


THE   CUP   OF   HEMLOCK.  299 

removed,  and  his  employment  in  prison,  which  had 
been  turning  iEsop's  fables  into  verse.  * 

He  sent  an  ironical  message  to  a  certain  Euenus, 
who,  he  said,  was  to  follow  him  as  quickly  as  pos- 
sible;  *for  I  must  go,"  he  said,  "to-day;  the 
Athenians  will  have  it  so.  "  Before  long  the  con- 
versation turned  to  the  subject  of  Immortality.  I 
shall  not  attempt  to  analyse  the  reasoning,  but  shall 
hasten  on  to  the  concluding  scene,  first  giving, 
however,  the  final  portion  of  Socrates'  description  of 
the  rewards  and  punishments  of  the  other  world. 

"When  the  dead  are  come  to  the  place  whither 
the  divine  guide  conveys  each  separate  soul,  first 
they  that  have  lived  after  a  holy  and  noble  fashion 
are  divided  from  them  that  have  lived  otherwise ; 
and  they  that  are  judged  to  have  lived  neither  ill 
nor  well,  going  to  the  river  Acheron,  mount  the 
carriages  there  provided  for  them,  and  so  are  con- 
veyed to  the  Great  Lake.  There  dwelling  they 
suffer  cleansing  and  expiation,  paying  the  penalty 
for  such  things  as  they  have  wrongly  done,  and 
receiving  on  the  other  hand,  due  reward  for  such 
things  as  they  have  done  well,  each  according  to 
his   deserts.    As   for   such  as  seem  to  be  past  all 

*  An  employment  enjoined  by  a  divine  intimation,  according 
to  the  philosopher's  account.  He  lived  habitually  under  the 
sense  of  a  supernatural  guidance.  This  did  not  suggest  action, 
but  frequently  forbade  what  he  had  intended  to  follow. 


h 


300  THE    CUP    OF    HEMLOCK. 

healing,  by  reason  of  the  greatness  of  their  trans- 
gressions, having  committed  many  and  great  rob- 
beries of  holy  things,  or  committed  many  murders 
against  justice  and  law,  these  the  attending  Fate 
casts  into  the  pit  of  Tartarus  never  more  to  come 
out  thence.  As  for  those  who  may  be  judged  to 
have  sinned  sins,  great  indeed,  but  such  as  may  be 
cleansed,  as  doing  violence  in  the  heat  of  anger  to 
father  or  mother,  or  slaying  any  man  in  the  like 
fashion,  they  must  needs  fall  into  the  same  pit,  but 
having  so  fallen  a  wave  carries  them  out  of  it  every 
year,  the  manslayers  by  the  stream  of  Wailing,  and 
the  parricides  and  matricides  by  the  stream  of  Burn- 
ing Fire,  and  when  being  so  carried,  they  come 
over  against  the  lake  of  Acheron,  then  they  cry  out 
aloud,  calling  to  them  whom  they  have  slain  or 
wronged,  and  beseeching  them  that  they  will  suffer 
them  to  come  out  into  the  lake,  and  will  so  receive 
them.  If  they  persuade  them,  then  they  come  forth, 
and  are  quit  of  their  troubles ;  if  they  persuade  them 
not,  then  they  are  carried  back  into  the  pit  and  from 
thence  again  into  the  rivers.  And  this  must  be  till 
they  persuade  them  whom  they  have  wronged,  this 
being  the  penalty  laid  upon  them  by  their  judges. 
As  for  them  that  have  lived  with  exceeding  holiness, 
they  being  set  free  from  these  earthly  dwelling- 
places,  from  which  they  come  forth  as  from  a  prison- 
house,  pass  to  fair  habitations  above.     And  such  of 


THE    CUP   OF   HEMLOCK.  301 

these  as  have  duly  cleansed  themselves  by  philosophy, 
these  live  wholly  without  bodies  for  the  time  to 
come,  and  come  to  habitations  yet  fairer,  such  as  it 
would  be  hard  and  beyond  the  opportunity  of  this 
present  time  to  describe.  Here,  then,  there  is  cause 
sufficient  why  we  should  do  our  best  to  keep  fast 
hold  in  this  present  life  of  virtue  and  wisdom,  seeing 
that  the  reward  is  noble  and  the  hope  great.  Verily 
a  man  may  have  good  confidence  concerning  his  soul, 
who  has  put  away  from  him  all  pleasures  that  con- 
cern the  body  as  things  that  concern  him  not,  but 
by  temperance  and  courage  and  freedom  and  truth 
has  made  himself  ready  for  his  passage  into  the 
unseen  world,  that  he  is  prepared  to  go  when  fate 
shall  call  him. 

*As  for  me,"  he  went  on,  'fate  is  now  calling 
me,  as  they  say  in  a  play.  It  is  time  for  me  to  go 
to  the  bath.  It  is  well  to  do  this  before  I  die  that 
the  women  may  not  have  the  trouble  of  washing  me 
when  I  am  dead." 

*  It  is  well,  Socrates, "  said  Cebes.  *  But  tell  us,  is 
there  anything  you  would  have  us  do  for  your  chil- 
dren or  in  any  other  matter?" 

*I  have  nothing  more  to  say,"  he  replied,  *do 
that  for  yourselves  that  I  have  bidden  you,  and  you 
will  do  all  that  is  best  for  me  and  mine,  whether 
you  now  promise  or  no.  But  if  you  do  it  not,  then 
whatever   you   may   promise,   you   will   fail   in   your 


302  THE    CUP    OF    HEMLOCK. 

perfonnance.*  'We  will  do  our  best,*  said  Cebes, 
•but  how  are  we  to  bury  you?" 

"Bury  me  just  as  you  .please,  that  is  if  you  can 
catch  me,  and  if  I  do  not  altogether  escape  from  you." 

"  Then  with  a  quiet  laugh  and  a  look  at  us,  he  said : 
*Dear  friends,  I  cannot  persuade  Crito  here  that  1 
who  am  now  talking  to  you  am  Socrates.  He  thinks 
that  that  which  he  will  soon  see  lying  dead  before 
him  is  Socrates,  and  asks,  forsooth,  how  he  is  to  bury 
me.  Now,  I  have  been  long  trying  to  convince  you 
that  when  I  shall  have  drunk  the  poison  I  shall  not 
be  with  you  any  more,  but  shall  depart  to  some 
happy  place.  He  thinks  that  this  is  all  foolish  talking 
on  my  part,  meant  to  give  comfort  both  to  you  and 
to  myself.  Now  I  want  you  to  give  to  Crito  just 
the  opposite  guarantee  to  that  which  he  gave  the 
court.  He  guaranteed  that  I  would  stay.  Do  you 
guarantee  that  I  shall  not  stay  when  I  am  dead,  but 
shall  depart.  So  he  will  take  the  matter  more  easily, 
and  when  he  sees  my  body  burnt  or  buried  may  not 
be  greatly  troubled  as  if  I  had  suffered  some  grievous 
loss.  Do,  Crito,  what  you  think  best,  and  what  is 
customary  in  this  matter.' 

*  Saying  this  he  left  us,  going  into  an  adjoining 
room  where  he  was  to  take  his  bath.  Crito  followed 
him,  bidding  us  remain  where  we  were.  So  we 
remained,  now  talking  to  each  other  about  what  had 
been  said,  and  thinking  it  over,  and  then  conversing 


THE    CUP   OP   HEMLOCK.  303 

about  our  loss,  for  it  seemed  to  us  as  if  we  were 
about  to  lose  a  father,  and  that  we  should  be  orphans 
for  the  rest  of  our  days.  When  he  had  finished 
his  bath,  his  children  were  brought  to  him;  he  had 
two  that  were  quite  young  and  one  grown  up.  The 
women  of  his  family  also  came.  He  talked  to  them 
in  Crito's  presence  and  told  them  what  he  wanted 
them  to  do.  Then  he  sent  the  women  and  children 
away,  and  came  out  to  us.  It  was  now  nearly  sunset, 
for  he  had  been  a  long  time  away.  Then  he  came 
and  sat  down,  saying  but  little.  After  this  came 
the  servant  of  the  Eleven,  and  stood  by  his  side. 
'  I  shall  not  have  to  complain  of  you,'  said  the  man, 
'what  I  have  to  complain  of  others,  that  they  fall 
into  a  rage,  and  curse  me,  when  at  the  command  of 
the  magistrates  I  tell  them  that  they  must  drink  the 
poison.  I  have  always  found  you  during  the  time 
when  you  have  been  here,  the  very  noblest  and 
gentlest  and  best  man  of  all  that  have  ever  come 
into  this  place.  And  now  I  am  quite  sure  that  you 
are  not  angry  with  me,  but  as  you  know  who  are 
to  blame,  with  them.  You  know  what  I  come  for: 
cheer  up,  and  try  to  bear  what  has  to  be  borne  as 
well  as  you  can.'  So  speaking  he  burst  into  tears, 
and  turned  away,  and  went  out.  Socrates  looked  at 
him  and  said,  *You,  too,  must  cheer  up;  I  will  do 
what  you  say!'  Then  turning  to  us,  he  said, 
*How   courteous   the  man   is!     All  the  time  he  has 


h 


304  THE   CUP   OF  HEMLOCK. 

come  and  sometimes  talked  with  me,  and  has  been 
the  best  of  friends.  And  now  see,  how  genuinelj 
sorry  he  is!  But  come,  Crito;  let  us  do  what  he  says, 
let  someone  bring  the  poison,  if  it  has  been  pounded ; 
if  not,  let  the  man  pound  it!'  'But/  said  Crito, 
*I  think,  Socrates,  that  the  sun  is  still  on  the  hills, 
and  is  not  yet  set.  I  know  that  others  have  put 
off  drinking  the  poison  till  as  late  as  possible ;  and  alter 
the  message  has  been  brought  to  them,  they  have 
dined  and  drunk  bountifully.  Anyhow,  there  is  no 
hurry.  There  is  plenty  of  time!*  'They  are  quite 
right,'  replied  Socrates,  *from  their  point  of  view; 
they  think  that  by  so  doing  they  will  get  some 
advantage.  But  I  shall  be  equally  right  in  not 
doing  80.  For  I  think  that  I  get  no  advantage  by 
drinking  the  cup  an  hour  or  so  later,  but  shall  only 
make  myself  ridiculous,  clinging  to  life.  Pray,  go 
and  do  as  I  say ! '  When  Crito  heard  this  he  nodded 
to  the  slave  that  stood  by  him,  and  the  slave  went 
out,  and  after  a  while,  came  back  bringing  the 
attendant  who  had  to  administer  the  poison,  which 
he  carried  ready  pounded  in  a  cup.  When  Socrates 
saw  it,  he  said,  '  Very  good,  my  man ;  as  you  know 
all  about  these  things,  tell  me  what  I  ought  to  do.' 
'Only  this,'  said  the  man,  'When  you  have  drunk 
it,  walk  about,  till  you  find  your  legs  growing  heavy; 
then  lie  down.'  And  so  saying  he  reached  out  the 
cup   to  Socrates.     He  took  it  very  quietly.     He  did 


THE    CUP    OF    HEMLOCK.  805 

not  tremble,  or  change  colour,  or  expression,  but 
knitting  his  brow,  as  his  habit  was,  said  to  the  man, 
'  What  do  you  say  about  the  draught  ?  Might  one 
pour  out  a  libation  to  anyone?*  *Well,'  said  he, 
'we  mix  just  so  much  as  we  think  the  proper 
quantity  to  drink.'  *  I  understand,'  answered  Socra- 
tes, 'still,  I  suppose  one  may,  indeed  one  ought,  to 
pray  to  the  Gods  that  my  change  of  abode  from  this 
place  to  that  may  be  for  good.  Verily  I  do  pray 
it.  May  it  be  so!'  So  speaking  he  drank  off  the 
hemlock  as  easily  and  cheerfully  as  a  man  could. 

"  But  when  we  saw  him  drinking,  and  the  cup 
empty,  my  tears  came  in  a  flood,  yes,  in  spite  of 
myself ;  30  I  covered  my  face  and  wept.  Nor  could 
Crito  control  himself.  As  for  Apollodorus,  he  had 
never  ceased  weeping  all  the  time,  and  now  he  burst 
out  into  such  a  passion  of  grief  that  we  all  broke 
lown,  all,  that  is,  except  Socrates.  'What  are  you 
about,  my  good  friends?'  said  he.  *This  is  why  I 
sent  the  women  away,  lest  they  should  do  anything 
absurd;  for  I  have  always  heard  that  a  man  ought 
to  die  in  peace.  Be  quiet,  I  beseech  you,  and  control 
yourselves.'  Then  for  very  shame  we  restrained 
our  tears.  He,  meanwhile,  had  been  walking  about, 
and  when  he  felt  his  legs  growing  heavy,  he  lay 
down  on  his  back,  for  the  man  told  him  so  to  do. 
After  a  while  the  attendant  who  administered  the 
poison  looked  at  his  feet  and  legs,  and  pressing  one 

20 


306  THE    CUP   OF    HEMLOCK. 

of  his  feet  with  much  force,  asked  him  if  he  felt 
anything.  *No,'  said  Socrates.  After  this  the  man 
felt  his  ankles,  and  so,  going  upwards,  showed  us 
how  he  was  growing  cold  and  stiff.  Socrates  himself 
said  that  when  the  coldness  should  reach  his  heart, 
then  he  should  die.  And  when  it  reached  the  ab- 
domen, he  uncovered  his  face,  for  he  had  covered 
it,  and  said,  and  these  were  the  last  words  that  he 
uttered,  *Crito,  we  owe  a  cock  to  ^sculapius.  See 
that  you  pay  it  and  do  not  forget.'  'It  shall  be 
done,'  said  Crito.  'Is  there  anything  else  you  have 
to  say  ?'  but  he  made  no  answer.  A  short  time  after 
the  attendant  uncovered  his  face,  and  we  saw  that 
the  eyes  were  fixed.  When  Crito  saw  this,  he  closed 
the  mouth  and  the  eyea.' 


CHAPTER  XXIV 

TEE  ONE  HERO  OF  THEBESk 

THE  Boeotians  were  proverbial,  at  least  among  their 
Athenian  neighbours,  for  sensuality  and  stupidity. 
"  They  cultivate, "  says  Cornelius  Nepos,  "  strength  of 
body  rather  than  keenness  of  wit."  The  reproach  was 
not  wholly  undeserved,  though  there  were  brilliant 
exceptions  to  the  rule,  in  Hesiod,  the  earliest 
of  the  didactic  poets  of  Greece,  in  the  illustrious 
Pindar,  and  in  Corinna,  whom  her  contemporaries 
are  said  to  have  preferred  even  to  Pindar  himself. 
The  political  record  of  the  people  certainly  excites 
no  admiration.  A  certain  stolid  courage  they  un- 
doubtedly possessed,  but  it  was  not  always  employed 
on  the  right  side.  In  the  Persian  war,  as  we  have 
seen,  Thebes  exerted  herself  with  what  we  may 
fairly  call  a  malignant  energy  against  the  cause  of 
Greece.  Her  conduct  to  Plataea  was  again,  to  say 
the  least,  wanting  in  generosity.  On  the  whole, 
Thebes  may  be  said  to  have  fallen  below  the  stan- 


308  THE  ONE  HERO  OP  THEBES. 

dard,  itself  not  very  high,  of  rectitude  and  honour 
attained  by  the  Greek  States.  The  cause  of  this 
failure  may  probably  be  found,  not  so  much  in  any 
national  defect,  as  in  the  singular  want  of  able 
leaders  which,  with  one  conspicuous  exception,  is 
observable  throughout  the  whole  of  her  history.  It 
is  this  exception  which  is  to  be  the  subject  of  this 
chapter. 

Epaminondas,  son  of  Polymnis,  was  born  about 
the  year  419  B.C.  He  belonged  to  a  noble  house 
which  circumstances  had  combined  to  impoverish.  * 
He  early  manifested  a  taste — very  rare  among  his 
countrymen — for  the  study  of  philosophy  and  letters, 
and  the  circumstances  of  the  time  enabled  him  to 
cultivate  it.  The  supremacy  of  Sparta,  after  the 
conclusion  of  the  Peloponnesian  War,  led  to  a  re- 
action in  Boeotia,  in  favour  of  their  Athenian  neigh- 
bours. The  relations  between  the  two  States  became 
friendly,  and  Epaminondas  was  able  to  avail  himself 

*  The  Theban  nobility  claimed  descent  from  the  Spartoi,  a 
claim  which  is  as  grotesque  as  that  of  the  Roman  family  of  Lamia, 
which  traced  its  pedigree  to  Lamus,  the  Cannibal  King  of  the 
Lsestrygons.  Cadmus,  the  founder  of  Thebes,  according  to  the 
legend,  was  bidden  by  Apollo  to  sow  the  teeth  of  a  monstrous 
dragon,  which  he  had  slain.  (A  similar  incident  occurs  in  the 
legend  of  Jason.)  These  teeth  produced  a  crop  of  armed  men, 
who  fell  upon  each  other  with  such  fury  that  five  only  sur 
vived.  These  five  were  regarded  as  the  progenitors  of  the 
noble  families  of  Thebes. 


THE  ONE  HERO  OF  THEBES.  309 

of  facilities  for  learning,  which  at  an  earlier 
time  he  could  not  have  enjoyed.  Socrates,  he  may 
well  have  seen  and  heard,  though  we  do  not  hear 
of  his  having  been  enrolled  among  his  disciples. 
That  he  attended  the  lectures  of  one  of  Socrates' 
most  prominent  followers,  Cebes*  the  Theban,  we 
know.  He  learnt  also  from  another  disciple  of 
Socrates,  Spintharus  of  Tarentum.  So  admirable  was 
his  attitude  as  a  disciple,  so  indefatigable  was  he  as 
a  listener,  so  averse  to  making  any  display  of  \ds 
own  abilities,  that  Spintharus  paid  him  the  empha- 
tic compliment :  *  I  have  never  met  with  anyone  who 
understood  more  or  talked  less." 

The  pursuit  of  philosophy  did  not  hinder  Epami- 
nondas  from  acquiring  the  other  accomplishments 
suited  to  his  age.  He  made  himself  a  proficient  in 
athletic  exercises.  But  it  was  observed  that  he 
specially  affected  such  as  tended  to  give  agility  to 
the  frame.  Boxing,  the  favourite  pursuit  of  the 
Theban  youth,  he  did  not  care  to  practise. 

Epaminondas  had  reached  the  prime  of  life  before 

•  A  treatise  entitled  the  Plnax  or  •Chart*  has  come  down 
to  us  under  the  name  of  Cebes.  The  "Chart"  is  supposed  to 
picture  the  moral  dangers  to  which  man  is  liable.  It  has  been 
doubted  whether  it  really  belongs  to  this  time,  and  there  is 
certainly  mention  in  it  of  persons  of  a  later  date.  These  may, 
however,  be  interpolations.  The  treatise  is  undoubtedly  Socratic 
in  its  tone. 


310  THE  ONE  HERO  OF  THEBES. 

his  merit  became  known  beyond  the  circle  of  his 
private  friends.  It  is  not  unlikely  that  poverty  stood 
in  his  way.  It  was  during  a  great  crisis  in  Theban 
history  that  he  had  for  the  first  time  an  opportunity 
of  acting  a  prominent  part.  In  388  B.C.  by  that 
disgraceful  compact  with  Persia  which  is  known  as 
the  Peace  of  Antalcidas,  Sparta  had  obtained  some- 
thing like  a  mastery  over  the  whole  of  Greece.  She 
used  her  power  with  characteristic  want  of  modera- 
tion. But  of  all  her  proceedings,  perhaps  the  most 
insolent  was  the  seizure  of  the  citadel  of  Thebes  in 
the  year  383.  A  Lacedaemonian  army,  which  was 
passing  under  permission  through  Boeotia,  entered 
into  an  arrangement  with  the  oligarchical  party  in 
Thebes.  The  oligarchs  obtained  possession  of  power, 
and  the  Spartans  seized  the  citadel,  the  home  govern- 
ment censuring  and  punishing  the  offending  general, 
but  refusing  to  give  up  their  ill-gotten  gains.  Three 
years  afterwards  the  leaders  of  the  democratic  party, 
who  had  fled  for  refuge  to  Athens,  overthrew  the 
usurping  government:  Epaminondas,  ever  scrupulous 
to  a  degree  which  scarcely  had  a  parallel  in  Greek 
life,  refused  to  join  in  the  plot,  which  involved  the 
assassination  of  the  oligarchical  leaders.  When  it 
came  to  open  fighting  he  was  one  of  the  first  to 
take  up  arms.  The  revolution  was  speedily  com- 
pleted by  the  capitulation  of  the  Spartan  garrison; 
among   the   leaders  of  the  party   thus  brought  into 


THE  ONE  HERO  OF  THEBES.  311 

power  was  Pelopidas,  Epaminondas'  most  intimate 
friend.  From  that  time  he  took  an  active  part  in 
the  civil  and  military  affairs  of  his  country.  It 
would  be  tedious  to  follow  the  shifting  phases  of 
these  affairs  and  the  ever  changing  relations  of 
Thebes  to  the  other  chief  cities  of  Greece.  Nor, 
indeed,  would  it  serve  any  useful  purpose,  as  the 
name  of  Epaminondas  scarcely  occurs  in  the  histo- 
nans  of  the  time.  It  will  suffice  to  say  that  seven 
years  after  the  Theban  revolution  we  find  him  chosen 
to  represent  the  State  at  a  Congress  of  the  Greek 
cities,  and  regarded  with  admiration  by  persons 
thoroughly  well  qualified  to  judge. 

The  Congress  met  at  Sparta  in  the  hope — so  at 
least  it  was  professed — of  establishing  a  permanent 
peace.  The  principle  in  which  negotiations  were 
based  was,  that  every  city  should  be  independent 
and  that  Sparta  and  Athens  should  divide  the  head- 
ship between  them,  taking  the  lead,  i.e.,  when  Greece 
was  threatened  by  a  common  foe,  but  not  pretending 
to  dictate  a  policy  to  any  of  the  states.  All  arma- 
ments were  to  be  dissolved,  all  garrisons  and 
governors  put  by  stronger  states  to  control  the 
weaker  were  to  be  withdrawn.  Any  offender  against 
the  common  peace  was  to  be  coerced;  but  no  state 
was  to  be  compelled  to  join  in  this  process  of 
justice. 

All  this  seemed  fair  enough,   but  it   was  in  fact 


^512  THE    ONE    HEKO    OF    THEBES. 

a  heavy  blow  at  Thebes.  There  was  something 
peculiar  in  the  relation  of  Thebes  to  the  other 
Boeotian  cities.  She  claimed  to  be  sovereign  over 
them ;  they,  or  at  least  some  of  them,  if  not  actually 
hostile,  as  was  Plataea,  refused  to  acknowledge 
anything  but  a  leadership.  This  was  the  view 
which  Sparta,  now  backed  up  by  Athens,  sought  to 
enforce  upon  the  Congress.  Epaminondas  argued 
the  case  for  Thebes  in  an  oration  which  would  have 
done  credit  to  the  traditions  of  the  best  Athenian 
eloquence.  It  is  needless  to  follow  his  reasoning; 
we  are  only  concerned  now  with  the  fact  that  he 
had  been  chosen  to  represent  his  country  and  that 
he  represented  it  in  a  way  that  extorted  the  admira- 
tion of  all  that  heard  him.  One  peculiarly  cogent 
argument  was  addressed  to  Sparta  in  particular.  He 
argued  with  irresistible  force  that  the  principle  for 
which  he  was  contending  had  been  accepted  by  the 
Spartan  judges  in  the  case  of  Plataea,  and  had  been 
the  foundation  of  the  decision  against  that  city,  a 
decision  which  declared  it  to  have  broken  its  alle- 
giance to  Thebes.  The  Spartan  king  Agesilaus,  who 
presided  over  the  Congress,  made  no  attempt  at  an 
answer,  but  put  the  simple  question:  "Will  you 
take  the  oath  for  Thebes  only,  and  leave  the  other 
Boeotian  towns  to  take  it  for  themselves  singly  ? " 
*  I  will  do  it,"  was  in  substance  the  answer  of 
Epaminondas,    *  if  Sparta  also   will  allow  the  other 


THE  ONE  HERO  OF  THEBES.  313 

towns  of  Laconia  to  take  the  oath  for  themselves." 
Agesilaus  then  proposed  that  Thebes  should  be  ex- 
cluded from  the  Treaty  of  Peace,  a  motion  which 
was  carried  by  the  Congress. 

These  proceedings  took  place  in  June.  The  Spar- 
tans, transported  with  a  rage  which  even  the  friendly 
Xenophon  describes  as  a  "  misguiding  inspiration  "* 
of  angry  Heaven,  resolved  to  take  an  exemplary 
vengeance  for  the  affront  which  they  conceived 
themselves  to  have  received.  It  so  happened  that 
Cleombrotus,  the  other  king,  was  at  the  time  en- 
camped on  the  Phocian  border  of  Boeotia,  with  an  army 
of  Lacedaemonians  and  allies.  Instructions  were  sent 
to  him  from  home,  approved,  we  are  told,  in  the 
General  Assembly  with  but  one  dissentient  voice, 
to  invade  Boeotia.  He  obeyed  them  without  delay, 
forced  a  passage  by  a  pass  which,  on  account  of 
its  difficulty,  was  but  weakly  guarded,  and  marching 
into  the  Thespian  territory,  pitched  his  camp  at 
Leuctra. 

The  first  impression  made  at  Thebes  was  one  of 
dismay,  and  the  first  idea  to  remain  within  the 
walls  of  the  city.  Epaminondas  and  his  friend 
Pelopidas  succeeded  in  infusing  into  their  country- 
men a  more  hopeful  spirit,  and  in  recommending  a 
bolder  course.  The  whole  Theban  force,  with  such 
of  their  Boeotian  allies  as  were  well  affected  to  them, 

*Grote'8  History  of  Greece,  viii.  166. 


314  THE  ONE  HERO  OF  THEBES. 

marched  out,  and  took  up  a  position  on  rising  ground 
immediately  facing  the  Spartan  camp.  There  were 
seven  officers —Bceotarchs  they  were  called — in  com- 
mand. Epaminondas  and  Pelopidas,  with  a  colleague 
whose  name  we  do  not  know,  were  for  giving 
battle ;  three,  terrified  by  the  aspect  of  their  Spartan 
adversaries,  were  for  retreating  behind  the  walls  of 
Thebes.  The  seventh  was  absent,  guarding  the 
passes  of  Cithaeron.  When  he  came,  he  voted  for 
the  bolder  policy.  When  this  decision  was  taken, 
the  courage  of  the  Theban  army  rose  to  the  occasion ; 
even  the  omens,  which  had  hitherto  presaged  defeat, 
became  favourable.* 

And  now  the  military  genius  of  Epaminondas  was 
to  display  itself.  He  adopted  for  the  first  time  in 
the    history    of  war   a   movement   which    has    now 

*  A  legend  of  Spartan  insolence  was  connected  with  a  tomb 
in  Leuctra,  said  to  cover  the  remains  of  a  father  and  two 
♦laughters.  Pelopidas,  we  are  told,  saw  in  a  dream  the  image 
of  the  father  standing  over  him,  and  bidding  him  offer  in 
sacrifice  an  "auburn  virgin."  Great  was  the  perplexity  among 
the  Theban  chiefs  when  he  communicated  to  them  this  dream. 
It  seemed  to  point  to  a  human  sacrifice,  and  human  sacrifices, 
though  practised  in  Rome  long  after  this  date,  had  for  many 
years  been  condemned  by  Greek  sentiment.  This  doubt  was 
happily  resolved.  While  they  were  deliberating  a  mare  with  a 
chestnut  filly  galloped  up  to  the  spot.  The  filly  was  pronounced 
by  the  official  prophet  to  be  the  *  auburn  virgin  *  intended, 
and  was  sacrificed  on  the  tomb. 


THE  ONE  HERO  OF  THEBES.  315 

become  a  commonplace  of  the  strategic  art.  Hitherto 
the  universal  practice  had  been  to  set  line  against 
line,  with  only  such  differences  of  strength  as  might 
be  due  to  the  superior  prowess  of  one  division  of 
the  army  or  another.  Epaminondas,  in  spite  of  the 
Theban  inferiority  in  numbers,*  and,  indeed,  with  the 
hope  of  neutralizing  it,  massed  his  chief  forces  on 
his  left  wing.  Here  was  the  "  Sacred  Band "  as  it 
was  called,  a  battalion  of  three  hundred  soldiers, 
picked  for  their  strength,  courage,  and  skill  in  athletic 
exercises,  and  behind  this  a  dense  mass  of  soldiers, 
no  less  than  fifty  deep.  With  this  he  intended  to 
strike  an  overwhelming  blow. 

The  battle  began  with  an  engagement  between  the 
Lacedaemonian  and  the  Theban  cavalry.  The  latter, 
always  as  good  as  any  force  of  the  kind  in  Greece, 
easily  vanquished  their  opponents.  Then  Epami- 
nondas delivered  his  attack  on  the  Spartan  right, 
where  Cleombrotus  commanded  in  person.  There  was 
a  fierce  struggle.  Such  soldiers  as  the  Spartans 
were  not  easily  overborne,  but  even  they  could  not 
long  resist  the  personal  prowess  and  the  overwhelming 
force  of  their  assailants.  Cleombrotus  fell  early  in 
the  day  ;  many  of  the  superior  officers  of  the  Spartan 
force  shared  his  fate ;  the  whole  wing,  after  a  steady 
resistance,    were,  driven    to    take    refuge   in   their 

"^  According  to  one  account  there  were  eleven  thousand  Lace 
daeroonians  to  six  thousand  Thehans. 


316  THE  ONE  HERO  OF  THEBES. 

camp.  Elsewhere  there  seems  to  have  been  but 
little  serious  fighting.  The  retreat  of  the  Spartans 
paralysed,  as  well  it  might,  the  energy  and  courage 
of  the  allies.  The  whole  army  retreated  to  its  camp, 
where  the  Thebans  did  not  venture  to  attack  it. 

Out  of  seven  hundred  Spartans  four  hundred  fell 
on  the  field  of  battle,  the  loss  among  the  Pelopon- 
nesian  allies  was  one  thousand,  at  a  moderate  esti- 
mate.    The  Theban  loss  was  returned  at  three  hundred. 

It  18  difficult  to  estimate  the  effect  which  the 
result  of  the  battle  had  upon  Greek  feeling.  That 
Spartans  could  not  be  beaten,  or,  if  they  could  not 
conquer,  would  die,  was  an  almost  universal  article 
of  belief.  This  faith  had,  it  is  true,  received  one 
or  two  hard  shocks.  In  the  course  of  the  Pelopon- 
nesian  War,  a  garrison  of  Spartans  had  surrendered 
at  Sphacteria;  in  the  Theban  revolution,  the  force 
that  occupied  the  citadel  had  evacuated  it.  These 
were  thought  to  be  departures  from  the  severity  of 
Spartan  law,  the  law  that  had  kept  the  Three  Hundred 
at  Thermopylae.  But  excuses  might  be  made  for 
them.  For  the  disaster  at  Leuctra  nothing  could  be 
said.  On  that  battle-field,  for  the  first  time  in  Greek 
history,  the  Spartans  had  been  beaten  in  fair  fight. 
The  Soldier  State  never  wholly  recovered  its  prestige. 

Epaminondas  was  determined  to  follow  up  this 
blow  at  Sparta  by  others  that  would  help  to  enfeeble 
her.     He  brought   back  to  their  old  home  the  rem- 


THE  ONE  HERO  OF  THEBES.  317 

nants  of  the  Messenian  nation.  Three  centuries,  all 
but  a  single  year,  had  passed  since  after  a  gallant 
struggle  it  had  been  expelled  by  its  Spartan  neigh- 
bours, a  people  closely  allied  to  it  by  descent.  Nine 
generations  had  cherished  the  hope  of  a  return ;  once 
or  twice  this  hope  had  seemed  about  to  be  fulfilled.  It 
was  now  accomplished  by  the  remarkable  genius  of 
Epaminondas.  Sparta  lost  a  considerable  portion  of 
territory,  and  saw  established  on  her  south-western 
border  a  hostile  power,  embittered  by  ages  of  wrong, 
not  only  formidable  in  itself,  but  dangerous  as  giving 
a  refuge  to  the  discontented  element  in  her  own  sub- 
ject population. 

Another  step  in  the  same  direction  was  the  foun- 
dation of  the  city  of  Megalopolis  in  Arcadia.  The 
policy  of  Sparta  had  been  to  keep  the  Arcadian 
people  disunited.  She  had,  a  few  years  before, 
actually  broken  up  the  ancient  community  of  Man- 
tinea  into  a  number  of  villages.  The  Mantineans 
had  themselves  reinstated  their  town.  And  now 
Epaminondas  united  a  number  of  other  Arcadian 
communities  in  the  new  city. 

To  effect  these  objects  he  led  an  imposing  force 
into  the  Peloponnesus.  For  a  time  Sparta  itself  was 
in  danger.  An  unwalled  city,  it  had  always  trusted 
to  the  unrivalled  valour  of  its  inhabitants.  The 
prestige  of  this  valour  lost,  it  seemed  absolutely 
within  reach  of  the  most  complete  humiliation,  even 


318  THE  ONE  HERO  OF  THEBE8. 

of  destruction.  Epaminondas  did  not  persevere  in 
his  attack,  though  he  was  at  one  time  within  a 
very  short  distance  of  the  city.  His  characteristic 
moderation  induced  him  to  hold  his  hand.  But  beyond 
all  question,  for  the  time  at  least,  Thebes  occupied 
that  prominent  position  in  the  eyes  of  all  Greece, 
for  which  Sparta  and  Athens  had  long  contended. 

This  moderation  was  shown,  unhappily  in  vain,  in 
another  instance.  Epaminondas  had  led  an  army  into 
Thessaly,  where  Pelopidas  had  fallen  into  the  hands 
of  local  tyrants.  During  his  absence  the  aristocratic 
party  in  the  Boeotian  town  of  Orchomenus  conceived 
the  wild  idea  of  bringing  about  a  revolution  in 
Thebes.  The  plot  was  revealed  to  the  Theban 
government,  and  the  conspirators  seized.  A  most 
cruel  vengeance  was  executed  on  the  unhappy  town. 
All  the  males  of  military  age  were  slain,  and  the 
rest  of  the  population  sold  into  slavery.  Epami- 
nondas returned  to  find  that  this  shameful  sentence 
had  been  carried  into  execution,  and  expressed  his 
indignation  in  the  strongest  terms.  This  did  not 
prevent  his  re-election  to  the  highest  office  which 
the  people  had  to  bestow. 

But  his  career  was  now  drawing  to  a  close. 
Pelopidas  had  fallen  in  Thessaly,  a  victim  to  his 
own  desperate  valour,  and  Epaminondas  did  not 
long  survive  him.  Causes,  which  it  would  take  too 
long   to   detail,  had  brought  about  hostility  between 


THE  ONE  HERO  OF  THEBES.  319 

Thebes  and  part  of  that  Arcadian  people  which  had 
derived  such  benefits  from  his  policy.  Epaminondas 
felt  himself  compelled  to  intervene.  He  led  a 
numerous  and  well-appointed  army  into  the  Pelo- 
ponnese.  By  a  rapid  and  well-planned  movement  he 
almost  surprised  Sparta.  Finally,  he  confronted  the 
enemy  in  the  plain  between  Mantinea  and  Tegea, 
the  battle  that  followed  taking  its  name  from  the 
former  town.  The  Theban  contingent  was  on  the 
left  wing,  confronting  the  Mantinean  and  Spartan 
troops.  He  adopted  the  same  tactics  that  had  proved 
so  successful  at  Leuctra,  hurling  a  massive  body  of 
his  best  troops  at  a  point  in  the  enemy's  line, 
breaking  it  through,  and  so  securing  a  first  success. 
All  went  well,  but  for  one  fatal  event.  Epaminondas, 
fighting  with  desperate  valour  in  front  of  his  troops, 
fell,  mortally  wounded.  The  contemporary  Xenophon 
gives  no  details  of  the  manner  in  which  he  met 
his  death.  What  we  hear  of  it,  we  hear  from  a 
much  later  writer.  According  to  this  account  he  was 
carried  by  his  impetuosity  into  the  midst  of  the 
enemy,  and  after  a  gallant  struggle  received  a 
mortal  wound  in  his  breast.  His  followers  carried 
him  out  of  the  battle.  The  surgeons  told  him  that 
to  remove  the  spear  would  be  followed  by  immediate 
death.  He  ordered  it  to  be  left  where  it  was  till 
the  questions  that  he  asked  were  answered.  "  Whcie 
is   my   shield?"  was  the  first.     He  was  told  that  it 


320  THE  ONE  HERO  OF  THEBES. 

had  been  recovered.  *  It  is  well, "  he  said.  *  Whose 
is  the  victory?"  he  asked  a  little  later.  He  was 
assured  that  it  rested  with  the  Thebans  and  their 
allies.  Satisfied  as  to  his  personal  honour  and  the 
principle  of  his  country,  he  ordered  the  spear  to  be 
drawn  out  and  immediately  expired.  With  him 
passed  away  the  short-lived  supremacy  of  Thebes. 
This  simple  fact  is  the  most  emphatic  praise  that 
can  be  given  to  *  The  One  Hero  of  Thebes.' 


L 


Reading   Circle    Classics  for    Young   People 

Ct.    8°.      Each   Beautifully    Printed    and    Bound 
Handsome  Decorative  JVrappers.     $1 .00 

Alice's  Adventures  in  Wonderland 

and 

Through  the  Looking  Glass  and 
What  Alice  Found  There 

By  Lewis  Carroll 
340  Pages.     Illustrated  h})  John  Tenniel 

Alice  in  Wonderland 

Is  also  made  separately  at  75  cents 

Almost  True  Stories 

Contents: 
Rip  Van  Winkle — Irving.  Legend  of  Sleepy  Hollow — Irving. 
Paradise  of  Children — Hawthorne.  Three  Golden  Apples — Haw- 
thorne. Golden  Touch — Hawthorne.  Pomegranate  Seeds — Haw- 
thorne. Circe's  Palace — Hawthorne.  Cupid  and  Psyche — Bulfinch- 
Golden  Fleece — Bulfinch.  Tournament  at  Winchester — Farrington. 
Lady  at  Shalot — Farrington.  Perseus — Kingsley.  Dog  of  Flanders 
— Ouida. 

400  Pages.      With  16  Full-page  Illustrations 

Stories  of  the  Republic 

Contents: 
Opening  of  the  Revolution  and  the  Boston  Tea  Party — Abbot. 
Battle  of  Bunker  Hill — Livingston.  Battle  of  Trenton — Trevelyan. 
Battle  of  King's  Mountain — Roosevelt.  George  Rogers  Clark  and 
the  Conquest  of  the  Northwest — Roosevelt.  Lewis  and  Clark 
Expedition — Butler  and  Southey.  Some  Blue  Jackets  of  1812 — 
Abbot.  Perry's  Victory  on  Lake  Erie — Roosevelt.  Fight  of  "Gen- 
eral Armstrong  " — .Roosevelt.  Battle  of  New  Orleans — Roosevelt. 
Youth  of  Abraham  Lincoln — Brooks.  When  Lincoln  was  Inaugu- 
rated— Brooks.  Duel  between  the  "  Monitor  "  and  the  "  Merrimac  " 
— Abbot.  Battle  of  Gettysburg — Burrage.  Lincoln's  Address  at 
Gettysburg — Lincoln.  The  Capture  of  Vicksburg — Church.  Story 
of  Sheridan's  Ride  and  the  Battle  of  Cedar  Creek — Putnam. 
Sheridan's  Ride — Read. 

400  Pages.      With  18  Full-page  Illustrations 
Kew  York         G.    P.   Putnam'S    Sons        London 


1 


Reading    Circle    Classics   for    Young   People 

Cr.  8°.     Each  Beautifully  Printed  and  Bound 
Handsome  Decorative  Wrappers.     $1 .00 

Forty  Famous  Fairy  Tales 

Jack  and  the  Beanstalk — The  Three  Dwarfs — The  Six  Swans — 
The  Sleeping  Beauty — Beauty  and  the  Beast — Blue  Beard — Tom 
Thumb — Snowdrop — Jack  the  Giant-Killer — Little  Red  Riding- 
Hood,  and  many  others. 

400  Pages.      With  14  Full-page  Illustrations 

Stories  Grsuidmother  Knew 

Contents 

Little  Merchants — Edge  worth.  Three  Cakes — Berquin.  Sus- 
picious Jackdaw — Ingelow.  Lazy  Lawrence — Edgeworth.  Little 
Goody  Two-Shoes — Goldsmith.  Grand  Feast — Sinclair.  Mad  Bull 
— Sinclair.  Dicky  Random;  or,  Good-Nature  is  Nothing  without 
Good  Conduct.  Birthday  Present — Edgeworth.  The  Journal — 
Wakefield.  Beechnut  and  Old  Polypod — Abbott.  Waste  Not, 
Want  Not;  or.  Two  Strings  to  Your  Bow — Edgeworth. 

400  Pages.      With  Full-page  Illustrations.     $1.00 

A  Little  Lame  Prince 

And  His  Travelling  Cloak 

A  Parable  for  Young  and  Old 
By  Dinah  Mulock 
150  Pages.     Full^  Illustrated.     75  cents 


Two  and  Four  Footed  Friends 

Stories  by  Anna  Sewell,  H.  Rider  Haggard,  Bret  Harte,  Ernest 
Ingersoll,  Charles  Dudley  Warner,  Hezekiah  Butterworth,  and 
others. 

382  Pages.     With  17  Full-page  Illustrations.    $1.00 


New  York         G.    P.    Putnam'S  Sons  London 


Reading   GWc    Classics  for    Young    People 


Cr.     8^.       Each    Beautifully    Printed    and    Bound 
Handsome  Decorative  Wrappers.     Each  $1 .00 


Tales  of  Heroism  from  the 
World's  History 

stories  by  E.  S.  Brooks— Charlotte  M.  Yonge 
—  Jacob  Abbot  —  Israel  Potter  —  Katharine 
Birdsall — W.  F.  Livingston. 

417  Pages,      With  17  lUustraiiom 

Tales  of  Robin  Hood  and  King 
Arthur 

Stories  by  Paul  Creswick — E.  S.  Brooks — 
Bayard  Taylor — ^M.  V.  Farrington — ^  Thomas 
Bulfinch. 

424  Pages.      With  17  Illustrations 

Adventures  Afloat  and  Ashore 

Tales  by  James  Feniinore  Cooper — Theodore 
Roosevelt— Washington  Irving — Herman  Mel- 
ville, E.  S.  Ellis— Frederick  S.  Dellenbaugh— 
Mayne  Reid — R.  M.  Ballantyne,  and  others. 

441  Pages.      With  17  Illustrations 


G-  P. 

New  York 


Putnam's   Sons 


London 


Tales  of  the  Heroic  Ages. 

By  ZenaIde  A.  Ragozin,  author  of  "  Chaldea,"  *'  Vedic  India,"  etc 
No,  1.— Siegfried  the  Hero  of  the  North,  and  Beowulf,  the  Hero 

of  the  Anglo-Saxons.  Illustrated.  12°  .  .  .  $1.25 
No.  II.— Frithjof,  the  Viking  of  Norway,  and  Roland,  the  Paladin 

of  France.     Illustrated.     12°         ....         ,       $1.25 

No.  III. — Salammbo,  the  Maid  of  Carthage.  Illustrated.  12°  .  $1.25 

"  The  author  is  one  who  knows  her  subject  as  a  scholai,  and  has  the  skill  and 
-magination  to  construct  her  stories  admirably.  Her  style  is  terse  and  vivid,  well 
adapted  to  interest  the  young  in  these  dignified  and  thrilling  tales." — Dial, 

Plutarch  for  Boys  and  Qirls. 

Selected  and  Edited  by  John  S.  White.  Illu^^trated.  8°.  $1.75 
Library  Edition.     2  vols.     16° $2.50 

*'  It  is  a  pleasure  to  see  in  so  beautiful  and  elegant  a  form  one  of  the  great  books 
of  the  world.     The  best  Plutarch  for  young  readers." — Literary  World, 

"  Shows  admirable  scholarship  and  judgment." — Critic. 

Pliny  for  Boys  and  Girls, 

The  Natural  History  of  Pliny  the  Elder.    Edited  by  John  S.  White 

"With  52  illustrations.     4°        .....         .     $2.00 

"  Mr.  White's  selections  are  admirably  made.  He  has  gleaned  in  all  directions 
for  his  notes,  and  the  result  is  one  which  reflects  on  him  great  credit,  and  adds 
another  to  the  number  of  juvenile  books  which  may  be  commended  without  reser- 
vation.' ' — Independent, 

"  For  the  libraries  of  the  young — and  every  boy  and  girl  in  the  land  should 
collect  a  library  of  their  own — these  superb  books  have  a  special  adaptation  ;  they 
open  the  classics  to  them." — Boston  Journal  0/  Education. 

Herodotus  for  Boys  and  Qirls. 

Edited  by  John  S.  White.  With  50  illustrations.  8°  .  $1.75 
Library  Edition.     2  vols.     16° $2.50 

"  The  book  really  contains  those  parts  of  Herodotus  which  a  judicious  parent 
would  most  likely  have  his  boys  and  girls  acquainted  with,  and  Mr.  White  has 
succeeded  in  condensing  these  by  omitting  multitudes  of  phrases  inserted  in  the 
Greek  text.  The  print  is  so  large  and  clear  that  no  one  need  fear  that  it  will 
foster  a  tendency  to  near-sightedness  on  the  part  of  boy  or  girl." — Nation. 

The  Travels  of  Marco  Polo, 

Edited  for  Boys  and  Girls,  with  explanatory  notes  and  comments,  by 
Thomas  W.  Knox.     With  over  200  illustrations.     8°.     $1.75 

*'  To  the  student  of  geography  Marco  Polo  needs  no  introduction.  He  is 
revered  as  the  greatest  of  all  travellers  in  the  Middle  Apes,  and  by  more  than  one 
careful  geograpner  his  work  is  believed  to  have  led  to  the  discovery  of  the  New 
World  by  tne  Hardy  Mariner  of  Genoa.  .  .  .  The  story  of  his  travels  was 
received  with  incredulity,  and  he  died  while  Europe  was  gravely  doubting  its 
truth.  It  has  remained  for  later  generations  to  establish  the  correctness  of  his 
narrative  and  accord  him  the  praise  he  so  richly  deserves." 


G.  P.  PUTNAM'S  SONS,  New  York  and  London 


14  DAY  USE 

RETURN  TO  DESK  FROM  WHICH  BORROWED 


This  book  is  due  on  the  last  date  si^bmped  below,  or 

on  the  date  to  which  renewed. 

Renewed  books  are  subject  to  immediate  recalL 


TO  c 


IHTDUD    JU.2  6  /c^-3PM3  9 


AUG  0  8  1974 


70 


BECt>  AH/C — ;Ug.8*18?t 


LD21-35m-8,'72 
(Q4189S10)476 — A- 


General  Library 

University  of  California 

Berkeley 


REC'D  L 


^ 


NSl^e^m'^gs 


hm 


'3402:^,1 


i 


UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA  LIBRARY 


